


Glimpses

by Churbooseanon



Series: Guns For Hire [16]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human AIs, Drinking Games, F/M, Family, Gambling, Gen, Guns For Hire AU, M/M, Mercenaries, Multi, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 09:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 67
Words: 21,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2186664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churbooseanon/pseuds/Churbooseanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various and sundry brief glimpses into the lives of some of the most dangerous mercenaries in a world where justice is for sale and the best don't come cheap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drinking Games - Florida and Connecticut

**Author's Note:**

> Seeing as it's becoming more common for people to ask for GFH when I open my tumblr askbox for brief challenges and requests, and that I try very hard to keep everything within a solid continuity, I wanted to have a way to add them here. 
> 
> Summary: The Informant and CT hang out after hours and play drinking games.

"So… the stakes?" Connie asks, leaning back in her chair and putting her feet up on the kitchen table as she took another swig from the bottle of vodka.

"Title of the ultimate information broker of course," Florida counters almost immediately, grinning cheerfully. "Two truths and a lie?"

"As obscure as you can go," Connie confirms. "I’ll start. I grew up in a small house with red shutters on the windows, my first name is Constance, and the first time I had sex was with a boy named Carl."

"Now Connie," Florida chided, "you’re not supposed to cheat."

"Who said anything about cheating?"

Florida just beamed at her politely as he took a sip of the bottle of schnaps he’d been holding. “Your name _is_ Constance, so there is a truth. But your first sex was with a young woman named Gabbie, and the shutters were blue.”

All Connie could do was stare at Florida, aghast.


	2. Cupcakes - Florida and Wyoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carolina shows the newest recruit to their group around their base of operations, and Florida likes what he sees.

"And this is the…"

Florida hears Carolina’s voice just before she enters the kitchen and he looks up from the cupcake he’s frosting with a smile. Today was the day then, the day she brought the last member of their little crew, and he had been looking forward to meeting the man known only as the Hunter.

And there he is behind her, a tall, lanky looking man with an astounding mustache and the same broad shoulders that North displayed. Florida couldn’t help but let the genuine smile he felt melt into his grin.

To think he’d just been thinking about how much of a shame it was that there weren’t any men up his alley here. It’d been so long since he’d had a lover with a mustache.

"Oh, Florida," Carolina pauses, frowning at him and the confectionery creation before him. "I didn’t know you’d be…"

"Cupcake?" he offers, smiling widely in general but letting his eyes linger on the Hunter to make it clear just who it was really meant for.


	3. Breaking Points - Epsilon/Tucker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Given back everything that was taken from him, Epsilon finally finds himself able to reach out in a way he hadn't considered before.

They give him back everything that he’d been missing. Starry night and cool breezes against his cheek and the smile of a sister warm as day and the support of a brother as welcoming as the night. Give him their voices and love and support and give him back his life.

In return he stops running. No. Not stops. Runs in the other direction. Gets himself to that door and knocks. And when Tucker answers he just pulls the other man in and kisses him. Kisses him hard and hungry long past when Tucker’s hands wrap around his wrist and pull them together. Kisses him to the point of his lungs aching, lips sore and swollen, and his legs going weak.

"About time," Tucker whispers when they pull apart.

"Sorry it took so long," Epsilon answers with a smile. "But I’m here now."

"It’s all I need."


	4. Expectations versus Reality - Church & Texas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are things he expects her to be without any real explanation. There are things he wants her to be. But she isn't. And he doesn't know why that hurts.

She should have flowers in her hair. A rose, tucked just behind her ear as she smiles and laughs and enjoys the world around her. Flowers in her hair and a smile on her lips and not an assault rifle and shotgun over her shoulders, her fists wrapped for close quarters fighting.

She should have laughter in her voice. Amusement in her voice as she deflects every snarky comment he makes, flinging comebacks with no effort at all. Laughter in her voice and a smile on her lips instead of controlled stoicism and hard words promising pain.

She should move like floating. Every step should be light and like dancing as she flits around her life of simple pleasure and joy. Floating from step to step with a smile on her lips instead of moving through the sea of a firefight like an avenging angel.

Tex is a killer, cold and hard, and there’s something about that which makes Church’s chest ache in a way he can’t explain.


	5. I Love You - Washington/York/North Dakota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time York truly means those three precious words.

He’s said it to them before. When his body feels fuzzy from little blue drinks at Errera. When his skin is burning from lips trailing over it. When North rolls his eyes at a stupid joke or Wash pulls his ass out of the fire and laments how much trouble York always gets him in.

He said it when he woke up in the hospital bed after a job gone wrong to see North sitting at his side, concern plain on his face. When Wash braved the door guard that was Maine to look in on him and spent a full hour sharing the hospital bed with York. Said it the first night Wash offered his real name to York, whispered in his ear while the three of them made love in York’s bed back in the base. The first time North offers his own name, making York promise not to tell Wash until York was ready to go back into the field. Said it every time he remembers their names given as talismans and encouragement and a quiet promise to support him until he’s back on his feet. Says it every time one of them kits up and heads out for a job, adopting the cold personas and self-assured swagger all mercs wear.

The first time he realizes just how powerfully he means it is when the second half of his payment is pushed across the desk toward him, and York realizes that he’s done it. He’s a mercenary again. He doesn’t have to go back to civilian life and be a locksmith or something. They gave him back something he had lived for. And there has to be a word stronger than love. He hasn’t found it yet, but York knows he will someday, and when he does, he’ll never stop using it.


	6. Back to Back - Texas & Carolina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Soldier and Number One are used to facing off against insane odds when they work together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a specific GFH picture by Synnesai: [Screenshots One](http://synnesai.tumblr.com/post/93913762710/the-rvb-guns-for-hire-animated-show-looks-awesome)

"Looks like we might have a bit of trouble on our hands," Carolina observes, pulling out her baton and flipping the switch to electrify it.

"Must be a day ending in ‘y’," Tex chuckles, cracking her knuckles and stretching her neck first one way and then the other. "You take the hundred on the left, I’ll take the hundred on the right."

"It really must be one, seeing as you’re grossly overestimating how many enemies we’re facing," Carolina laughs herself, slipping into an offensive stance and refusing to admit how good it feels to have the infamous Soldier’s back against hers for a fraction of a moment. How safe. It’s almost as good as having Meta or Recovery there. "Really, Tex, you’ve got to learn to count. Otherwise you’re going to claim more bodies than you have a right to."

"Is that a challenge?"

"I think it is."

They throw themselves forward as one, and Carolina smiles as she keeps a mental tally. She has no intention of losing. Especially not to Tex.


	7. Yearning - Florida/Wyoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Florida knows everything about Wyoming, except how to keep his emotions out of it.

He knows everything there is to know about Wyoming. Knows how he takes his coffee, what mustache wax he uses, what foods he loves, what his real name is, what he’s allergic too, where he went to school, how filthy rich he actually is, what powerful family he calls his own, and even what spots to touch to make the younger man moan.

He knows it’s only physical, it’s only temporary, it’s not going to last. It was never meant to last. It was supposed to be him selecting the person that most suited his needs when he’s decided to make this little group of mercenaries his base of operations. The one who he could have fun luring into his trap before he sprung it. It had never been meant to last.

And when he finds himself yearning for that, yearning for more, for something concrete, for three words that he’s not supposed to need so desperately, he packs up. He’s gone the next morning without a word. And he isn’t looking back.


	8. Collared - Maine/Delta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delta asks about the collar Maine wears. Maine dodges the question.

"Why the collar?"

Maine looks up from his morning tea—he couldn’t begin to fathom what it was about coffee that seemed to enamor the other mercenaries—and frowned. Delta was always so hesitant about things. Always danced around topics, took hours or days to broach questions that he clearly desperately wanted to know more about. Honestly, it wasn’t shocking that the question was coming up at all. It was that it had come up so early that made Maine pause.

"There are rumors…" Delta continues, "and…"

"I don’t have a demon inside of me that it keeps at bay. There’s no scars I’m hiding. No one’s ever gotten close enough to try and slit my throat. It’s just a collar."

It’s more than that. A lot more. And to be honest, Maine’s not ready to share.


	9. Waking - Washington/York/North Dakota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash awakens after the events of Keeping Vigil.

"He’s awake!"

The shouted words, York’s, wake North out of his nap. He’s almost immediately on his feet, at the side of the bed, his hand tucked into Wash’s, and he’s smiling down. Looking at a weary and half pained expression and a ghost of fear and pain in Wash’s eyes.

"What… where am I?" Wash asks, voice weak. "I don’t…"

"You’re safe," is York’s response on the other side of the bed. "That’s all that matters now, love. You’re safe and you’re here and that’s all that matters."

It isn’t, but North doesn’t correct his lover.


	10. Chance Meetings - Washington/North Dakota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post Recovering the Twins. 
> 
> A chance meeting at Errera and a hint at something more.

Normally North doesn’t remember faces he’s only seen once before. Or only ever seen briefly. It’s a defense mechanism he supposes. Helps him distance himself from the people he’s killed. Easier to be an assassin when you don’t have faces haunting your dreams. But the one he catches out of the corner of his eyes while he’s at the bar in Errera, the one that flashes just in sight heading for the dance floor, it’s instantaneous in North’s mind.

_Recovery._

South’s busy flirting with a young woman further up the bar. CT had abandoned them almost twenty minutes ago to go on the prowl. And North had resolved himself to a quiet drink before heading back to base to relax in his own way. But that sight, the flash of blond hair with black roots peeking out, that bone melting smile, that confidence…

He pushes away from the bar and dives into the press of bodies on the dance floor like he never has before. Hates the pulse of the music, the lack of escape routes, the untenable situation were a fight to break out. But he does it anyway, following flashes of blond and gold and gray. Loses sight of him for half a second and then there’s a hand on his wrist, twisting his arm back and up and wow his grip is strong and painful. Takes a lot not to kick the man behind him.

"You’re following me," Recovery observes, and North can tell by his voice that he was right, this was the face he remembered, and thus the man he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for a solid month.

"Wanted to buy you a drink. For saving my sister and all that," he answers, hoping Recovery recognizes his voice too. And he must have, because the grip at his wrist is almost immediately gone, while Recovery is standing in front of him, smiling up at him with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I’m not here to drink, North. I’m here to dance."

"Well," North smiles, loving the smirk on those beautiful lips that he desperately wants to lean down and claim, "I suppose I could do that just as easily."

The light in Recovery’s eyes is pure invitation. One North wouldn’t dream of backing down from. Maybe he wouldn’t head back to base at all. There were other manners of relaxation after all, and if he was lucky, he might get the chance to indulge.


	11. Beautiful Stranger - South & Connecticut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon arriving at the fore hire base for the first time, South gets her first glimpse of CT, and she likes what she sees.

The small woman in the training room is a thing to behold. Before this South had always pretty much thought people willing to take a fight in melee range were crazy. Sure, she’d seen some people effective at short distances. For instance she can actually remember one time where she saw Recovery kick a guy so hard that his helmet visor actually cracked. Granted it had proved to be low end shit upon closer inspection, but she had to give the guy credit.

And he has nothing on the brown clad woman sparring with Carolina. The smaller woman, CT if South remembered her code name properly, moved almost as fast as Carolina, and she sure as hell seemed to react faster. The curved wooden swords in both of her hands seemed to move like extensions of her body, blocking Carolina’s every kick, punch, and swing of Carolina’s taser baton.

All South can do is watch the way she moves. How easily she swings her leg high above her head for a heel drop. How balanced she is as she practically doubles over backward to avoid Carolina’s weapon swinging for her. The one-handed back handspring that gets her back on her feet and charging in at Carolina like death itself.

She’s beautiful and deadly at the same time. Exactly the way that South likes it.

"Dear god," North sighs at her side, and South knows by his tone that her brother’s arms are crossed over his chest. "I’m so glad we have our own rooms now.”

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"I’m just tired of you bringing girls back to our hotel room."

South rolls her eyes. “You’re just assuming things.”

"Yeah, neither of us believe that. Ten credits you’re going to try and sleep with her."

South smirks. She hopes he gets those credits sooner rather than later.


	12. First Kill - Eta and Iota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve year old Eta and Iota test their skills under the watchful eyes of their mentors.

She was never good at following orders.

She supposes that’s why she is where she is. The man smells like fear, which makes sense given the fact that his arm is around her waist, his knife to her throat, and there’s three guns pointed at him. All of her training is flashing through her head. All those self-defense lessons Carolina gave her on how to get out of holds like this. CT’s long sessions on how to disarm man and turn a knife against her attacker. South’s insistence that she learn to fight dirty.

Their instructions war in her mind, offering different solutions to the problem that all war with the number one rule Florida had given her when they met in secret late and night so he can teach her all the things about her knives that CT won’t, all the things about fighting in close quarters that Carolina isn’t willing to yet, all the dirty moves South jokingly talks about and never uses.

She could get out of this, easily, were she not concerned about one thing: one of the guns pointed at her captor is in Iota’s hands. He’s never been in a real life or death situation like this before, just like her. Well, that isn’t _entirely true_ but it’s the first time either of them have been in a position to do anything. And as much as she trusts her twin, she isn’t quite sure how good his nerves are. An unexpected move could get him to shoot. He’s good with targets, but he’s never shot a person before, especially not in a high stakes situation. She needs to be patient. Wait for Florida to talk the man down, for Wyoming to be confident enough to take the shot, for…

The knife presses more firmly against her neck, she can feel the cut, the warmth of her blood, and she can’t begin to think rationally now. It’s all training and instinct. Head back to smack against his. Arm up inside his knocking it away while her other hand grabs the back of his wrist and twists. Duck as the knife starts to fall, catch it, roll away and throw even as she comes to a stop.

A gunshot rings in the air and the man falls as time seems to settle back to rights around her.

There’s a knife in his throat, the knife she threw. A bullet through the middle of his visor.

There’s silence for a long moment before the laughter starts. It’s high and cheerful and infectious, making it Florida’s.

"It’s not funny," Wyoming insists. "We take them out on a _tiny_ little red job and we almost got Eta killed.”

"I wasn’t worried," Iota lies, Eta can hear it in his voice, and she smiles.

"Me either," she agrees. "We handled it."

Florida’s still laughing, and Eta reaches nervously for him, ignores Iota going for his first aid kit.

"Are you…?"

"Reggie, I don’t know who wins that bet."

Eta frowns at him, biting her lip. “What is he…?”

After a moment Wyoming chuckles, and then falls into full blown laughter. Eta looks in askance at her twin, who shrugs.

"Florida, what is going on?"

She knows he’s smiling under his helmet, she just doesn’t know why.

"I… bet Reggie that you’d get your first kill before Iota. How the hell are we supposed to know who won now?"

Eta just rolls her eyes and turns to Iota and the gauze pad he’s suddenly pressing against her neck. Idiots.


	13. Anniversary - Washington/York/North Dakota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Washington works hard on an anniversary gift and it doesn't go so well.

"Connie!"

She looks up from the book she’d been reading to look at Wash as he all but burst into the library, holding what looked like a mass of wilted flowers and looking utterly panicked.

"Connie, you’ve got to help me!"

Connie sighs and puts a bookmark on her page and sets her book aside, pushing out of her seat to approach the other mercenary and smile. “Hey, calm down, okay? Recovery doesn’t freak out over dead plants, okay?”

"They’re roses, they were roses. Purple ones. And these really lovely gold-ish ones that match York’s helmet a bit. I…”

She bites her lip and raises a hand to stop him, already understanding the situation. “Sudden cloud?”

"Sudden cloud," he agrees with a whimper as he holds the pathetic, dead things out toward her.

"You had to have ordered these special for them. I’ve never seen these colors in any shops in Gulch."

"I ordered them from this really high end garden in Armonia and now look at them! They were supposed to be for our anniversary and…"

Connie raises her hand to stop him, smiling softly at him. “It’s okay. We can fix this.”

"They’re _dead_ and York and North are due back from their shopping trip into town in a few hours. I can’t replace…”

Connie just grabs Wash’s arm and hauls him out of the library. “Maybe not exactly, but you can do your best. Come on. We’re going to go grab Florida. He’s way better at decoration than I am.”

"Decoration?"

Her grin only grows wider as she hauls Wash toward the kitchen. “We’re going to make cupcakes, and Florida’s going to teach you how ot make frosting roses to go on top.”


	14. The Fall of Florida - Florida/Wyoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An exploration of a possible future, where Florida goes the way he wants to, not the way he has to, and how it affects the most important people in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A string of stories created as an anonymous user on Tumblr kept asking for more.

They both know what she’s going to say. Well no, not exactly. Only she knows what the lab results say, just how bad it is, but she knows he can read it in her face. In the lack of cheerful greeting when he’d come into the room.

"That bad, huh?" Florida, _Butch_ , asks as he hops himself up onto the edge of one of the beds. Quickly folds his hands in his lap to hide how badly they were shaking seconds before. 

Doesn’t mean Grey didn’t notice. 

"It is," she confirms with a sigh. "Butch…"

"How long?" he asks, voice losing all it’s cheer, gone fully cold and distant. She wonder if that’s what he sounds like when he’s on a job. Quickly shakes the thought off. 

"If you’re really lucky? Five years or so?"

"How bad?" 

Her eyes go to his hands and she bites her lip. His probably follow her gaze because his hands unlace and move behind him so he can lean back on the bed, resting his weight on them. 

"It’s degenerative, and neurological, Butch. It’s not going to be pretty."

Florida laughs, a bitter thing that Grey thinks doesn’t fit his mouth. She’s known him for so long now, and she’s never heard anything quite like that from him before. If she had to guess, 

"Don’t tell anyone, okay?" Florida whispers, his voice oddly strained. 

"Butch, this…"

"No one." 

She doesn’t even have a chance to get to her feet before he’s out of the room. Grey sighs and throws the file at the wall. All these years. All this work to keep the mercs going, to keep them healthy, and for what? To be powerless when it really matters. 

* * * * * *

There’s a stack of envelopes on her desk. They weren’t there when she’d gone to have lunch with Carolina in town. And she’s terrified that she knows just what they are. 

Twenty-one flawless envelopes, a soft, pale purple gray with the fibers easily visible and hints of color with pieces of flower petals worked into the paper. That’s more than enough to give the origin away. She remembers that the twins gifted Florida the stationary for his ‘birthday’ a few years back. Of course his looping handwriting, large and blue on each envelope, tells the story as well. 

Grey bites her lip and picks up the top envelope, the one with her name on it. Pulls a scalpel from a nearby tray to slice it open neatly. Brings out a piece of paper that matches the envelope and covered with more of his handwriting. 

_Grey,_

_I’m leaving these with you. It’s the only way I can be sure they don’t get opened until they are meant to be. You’ll know when to pass them out. I’ve always preferred my exits to be big, just as big as my entrances._

_Thank you for trying. Did some research on what the file said. The way I’m going isn’t going to be pretty. So I’m going to take it into my own hands when the time comes. The letters, as you might guess, are for everyone. For after. To say goodbye. There’s another one for you in there. But, please, wait before you open it._

_Make them understand that this was something I had to do. The pups and Reggie are going to need it. Not to mention my kitten. Be there for them in the way you would have been if I’d stayed._

She crumples the note and throws it at the wall.

How dare he ask this of her? 

* * * * * *

Wyoming sleeps like the dead when he’s in the base. It means it takes none of his skill at all to extract himself from the arm draped around his chest. It means that he can leave a light kiss on Wyoming’s forehead before he goes. Means he can tape the note telling his lover he’s going to be gone on a job and that he’ll be back soon. 

Means he can check his knives, his pistol, his shotgun and the canisters of his bolero and…

He doesn’t rage. Doesn’t throw anything. That would be too far. When his hands start to shake, though, he want to. Wants to break the mirror. Wants to tear apart every piece of cloth in the room. Wants to topple the dresser and smash the knickknacks on the shelves from birthdays and trips and jobs pulled by his pups or kitten. Wants to stop being strong, silent, confident. Wants to hate the world and scream and fight. 

There’s nothing to fight. 

His tongue runs over the false tooth in the back of his mouth. Considers the cyanide. It would be easier, and a touch less pleasant. Florida, the Informant, _Butch Flowers_ doesn’t go out easy. He goes out fighting. 

There’s nothing to fight. 

With a sigh he contemplates the duffel by the door. It’s filled with extra clips and magazines and Wyoming’s hunting knife and a few grenades. So easy to just take it and go. 

He leaves it behind. 

He has to give death a fighting chance. 

Closes the door quietly behind him. Whispers one of the few forbidden terms between the members of their team. 

Says his goodbye now, because there won’t be time later. Not if it all goes right. 

* * * * * *

There is an elegance in the taking of a life when one is trained properly. A clean slice to the throat, to one of four other points on the body, and you can simply walk away while they try to hold themselves together. To keep all the blood in the leaking body. A punctured balloon leaking water from too many holes. There’s no way to stop it, but oh how desperately they try. 

There is no elegance in a shooting. It’s simple, casual, and cold. There is nothing personal about a gun to the temple. Nothing intimate in a bullet to the head. It’s quick. It’s messy in an entirely different way. Not a way that he’s ever been fond of. 

He pumps them full of lead. Not because he can, but because he has to. The point is to go out, but it’s to go out well. Taking on odds that most would balk at, finish the job, or get damn close to it when he bleeds out from a variety of wounds. 

Except for one problem. 

Not a single one of these assholes have managed to put a hole in him yet. He’s olde enough to be their grandfather to the man (and woman), his hands still shake on the gun, and he’s not as fast as he used to be. 

And somehow, by some miracle, they still can’t touch him. 

_He hates it._

* * * * * *

The confirmation code on the kill comes through after a few long moments. The video of the information he’d been paid for sent off along with the clip of the man’s final moments and Florida’s checking him over once or twice. The body is cooling in the middle of the locked room, and Florida sits with his back to the wall, looking at the pool of blood on the floor and wondering how it isn’t his. 

He can’t hold his knife. It fell out of his hand while he was _talking_ to his target. 

None of the blood is his. 

It almost has him laughing. Hysteria gnaws so eagerly at the borders of his mind, threatening to push him into fits. Almost drives him back to the knife and the freedom it offers. Elegant in the end. The money’s already in his account, already processing, already set aside for the ones that matter. All he has to do is… _stop._

His hand shakes too much for the knife. It’s only going to get worse. Worse over the next few years. No hope. Humanity could perfect insane levels of filtration systems, but there were still things they couldn’t face. 

He considers the pistol at his side, before sighing and remembering he didn’t bring Wyoming’s spare ammo. He doesn’t have any bullets to use in either gun. Doesn’t feel like going back to get another. He’s not leaving this room alive unless he can find the strength in himself to go on another job. And he’s so not ready for that. Never will be. 

His tongue toys with the false tooth. Cyanide.

Well, it always had been the back up plan, hadn’t it? 

* * * * * *

_I’m sorry._

His voice rings in her ears. Rings and rings, circling. Words chasing themselves in circles over and over. Her body rocks as she holds him close, holds him in her arms, tries to shake him awake. She can see how dead his eyes are. Feel how his body is already taking on the chill of the room. 

She shakes him, calls his name. Calls every last name she knows. The ones he gave her. The ones she found on her own. The ones he didn’t know she knew. 

All she can hear is the apology over and over again, weak. Not sad. Just disappointed. 

Her voice is raw from the pleading, the screaming, the demands that he wake up. 

And then it’s quiet. Utterly quiet. Death in the stillness of the air as she gets to her feet. Her HUD says it’s only been a few minutes. She reaches up. Thumbs the disconnect on her tracking beacon. On her comm. On her video feeds. Goes dark. 

She picks up the knife on the floor and walks out. Runs out. Disappears into the shadows.

It’s all she can do. The only way to make his voice stop chasing itself around in circles in her head. 

* * * * * *

"Carolina, in here…"

She does her best not to flinch at the edge in his voice as she steps through the door and finds…

It’s not everything she feared, but it’s close. Florida stretched out on the floor near what had to be his final kill. His eyes are long since fogged over, his lips the wrong color, his skin pale and probably cold to the touch. 

It takes a lot to not reach out for Eta and Iota, the younger all but collapsed into her brother’s arms. They’re probably calling in their helmets, and Carolina won’t admit to the tears stinging her own eyes. 

"Any sign of her?"

Iota shakes his head briefly, and Carolina sighs. Of course not. But maybe that’s a good thing. Her recovery beacon going off at her spiked vitals and then abruptly cutting off was what had brought them here. Them because Recovery was out with his second covering a job the Twins were running with York. Wyoming had… It was better Wyoming didn’t know until he had to. So Carolina had answered the beacon, dragging Eta and Iota with her. 

No, not dragging. They’d blocked the door until Carolina had agreed to let them come with her. 

She hadn’t meant for them to see this. To see him like this. To see him…

_They deserved better than this, Butch. We all did._

* * * * * *  
Twenty envelopes in a safe. 

Grey takes out the one one the bottom with her name on it when the recovery beacon goes off and Carolina goes with Eta and Iota to answer it. Bites her lip as she reads and ignores the water marks that she’s certain weren’t there when she’d opened it. The roof must be leaking. She’d have to tell Carolina to look into that when she got back. 

Nineteen envelopes in a safe. 

They stretch his body out on the same bed he perched on when she gave him the news. Carolina looks at her, looks at the body, and Grey doesn’t have to look very long to know what happened. But she’s a professional. She gives him a quick check over to be sure, knowing Eta and Iota would have done so. The false tooth is missing. Grey gives them envelopes of a soft gray purple with large fibers and flecked with petals. The twins know what they are immediately and flee. Carolina stares down, as if she doesn’t comprehend for a long time. 

Sixteen envelopes in a safe. 

She goes to Wyoming’s door herself, nervously flipping Florida’s final message over and over in her hands. As she understands it he was waiting there since he woke up and found Florida gone. Since he told her and she went off after Florida. Since the recovery beacon had gone off and the three had gone out to find her, only to find Florida’s body. When she knocks he opens the door and his expression immediately falls. She opens her mouth to speak and he just snatches the envelope out of her hand and slams the door. She finds it in the trash later, unopened. Slips it back under his door. Knows that eventually, he will read it. 

Fifteen envelopes in a safe. 

When she gets back to the medical wing, gets back to her office, Connie is perched on her desk, reading a letter. Honestly? Grey wasn’t surprised she found her way to them without even trying. When she approaches Connie hops off the desk and pulls Grey into a tight hug. Says it’s not her fault. That this was just how Florida had always been. 

Fourteen envelopes in a safe. 

Maine and Delta wait with Epsilon in the library. They stare at the pale purple-gray when she passes them out. Maine sighs. Epsilon frowns and bites his lip, comments quietly that he needs to be somewhere else. At that Grey passes him another two letters to take with him, and Epsilon nods quietly. They all know where he’s going to go, and that Tex is going to escort him there for his safety. Might as well take out a few birds with one stone. Maine just holds Delta close. 

Nine envelopes in a safe. 

Omega flinches away from his over dinner. His hand shakes when he takes it, when he opens it, and almost immediately he’s cursing. Cursing Florida for hurting Eta and Iota. Cursing the world for being so fucked up. Cursing the fates for taking a merc out in such a messy way. 

Eight envelopes in a safe. 

Gamma finds her. He says nothing, just holds his hand out. Grey bites her lip and starts to speak. Starts to tell him that Connie and Carolina are already looking. That they’ll bring her home. He just shakes his head, gestures more firmly. She passes his message over and watches him walk away. There’s no one who can help him if he doesn’t let them. 

Seven envelopes in a safe. 

Theta comes to her when he gets back. Looks at her with somber eyes. Asks if it was true, and doesn’t look at the sheet covered body in the room. She hands him his letter. 

Six envelopes in a safe. 

When word comes that they’re returning, Grey goes to meet the mercs in the front room. Wash immediately asks about the recovery beacon. Grey shakes her head. Passes them the bundle of letters for North and South, York, Sigma, all trailing in after him looking weary. Unharmed, though. She’s thankful for that. It was a big job when a client was willing to pay the rate to have Recovery there on site to support. They could have come back worse. Her duty done she breaks down into tears and flees back to her her office. 

One envelope in a safe. 

Undelivered and waiting. 

Grey bites her lip to keep from crying all over again. 

One envelope in a safe. 

* * * * * *

There’s an accusation sitting on his desk. An accusation in pale gray and purple paper, penned in blue, and written by Butch’s hand. An accusation in the form of a letter saying goodbye. 

It’s been on his desk for a week now. Staring at him for a week. 

Butch has been gone for a week.

They tell him there was a small ceremony. A family sort of thing. Wyoming kept himself out of that. Out of the decision process. And she wasn’t there to have any say, so that had left it to the next closest thing Florida had to a family. 

Eta and Iota had opted for cremation. There was, supposedly, a wooden box waiting for him in Grey’s office. A box that Epsilon had carefully carved the only name they had for him into. No dates, though. No one knew enough about Florida to know how old he’d actually been. He’d apparently carved flowers on it too, a variety of them. 

Iota said it was all very tasteful.

Eta didn’t say anything. 

Wyoming just stayed in his room, looking at the accusation sitting on his desk and running his fingers through his hair. Remembers lighter fingers there, teasing and gripping and…

An accusation. He wants to throw it away. Every time he does it ends up slid back under his door. With a sigh Wyoming pushes off of the bed. Moves to the desk. Picks up the envelope.

Opens a drawer and drops it in. 

An accusation in a drawer is easier to live with. It doesn’t glare at him. 

For the first time in a week he shuffles out of his room, heads for the kitchen. Ignores the heads that turn as he passes. 

He needs a cup of tea. Needs a cup of tea and to sit quietly with Gamma. So they can grieve and wait for news together. 

* * * * * *

At three weeks they’re all different kinds of broken. Different specific blends of hurt and angry and grieving. They hate him and what he chose. And they handle it differently. 

Iota doesn’t come out of the lab very often to do anything other than jobs. His lips are cracked and broken from the way he bites them raw. The bags under his eyes are enough to make him look like he smeared paint there. Wash and Sig follow him out on his jobs more often than not, whether he asks or not. They haven’t had to pull him out yet, but it’s been narrow. Sigma doesn’t bother trying to talk to him, he knows his little brother will rebuff him. What he needs is…

Eta barely comes back to the base. She’s working for two now. The jobs she pulls are dangerous, and she’s coldly efficient. Rarely allows Iota to follow her out on a contract. She earns a new name. Persephone. A goddess of death. No more elegance, no more joy. Just death. And she takes on another persona. Says she does it for Florida, for the importance of carrying the name for when it’s needed again. Io doesn’t know what to think, but Eta was never Shadow, and never will be. But he does hate how easily she seems to slip into shoes she was never meant to fill. What she needs is…

Wyoming is a ghost that walks the halls of the base. Tea in the morning. Tea at his meager lunch that Grey or Carolina or CT forces him to eat. He’s broken in his own way. Hates the man he loved for denying him everything. He’s read the letter now. Understands, and hates the chose. Who was Florida to take the chance to be with him for even a minute longer? Who was Florida to make this sort of decision? How could Butch have not even let him say goodbye? What he needs is…

Gamma watches it all. Silent and pained as he looks at his monitors. Watches the base, watches the streets, watches for some hint of her. It had been bad enough to lose Florida. But their family was broken in one more than one way. He watches Grey putter around her medical wing listlessly, patching people up and looking for a set of cheerfully supportive hands that aren’t there. Watches Eta hesitate outside of a door every time she takes out the backup helmet for her second persona. Watches Io not even walk that part of the hall, avoid a cat in the halls that Gamma knows ends up in his room anyway. Watches York and Carolina look helplessly after the younger twins. Watches Tex get angrier and angrier. Watches Omega and Delta look after their siblings and seem torn between reaching out and giving them space. 

Watches the streets for her. Listens to the word, the rumors, the trail she leaves in her wake. What he needs is out of reach. 

* * * * * *

Florida finds her in the streets. In an alley surrounded by three larger kids. There’s a fire in her eyes, a fire he half expected, but is still pleasantly surprised to find in such a young girl. There’s a hardness to those smart brown eyes as she is backed into a corner. A kind of borderline feralness that makes her perfect. 

If she’s got the stomach. 

"Well, what do we have here?" Florida calls down. Swings his legs back and forth over the edge of the low roof he’s sitting on the side of. All eyes are on him almost instantly. Four sets. Three lit with the cruel edge of bullies, one with a mixture of relief and annoyance. She doesn’t trust him. Doesn’t trust adults to help. Good. That’s a good starting point indeed. 

"Just playin’," one of the boys calls up. "Ain’t nothin’, mister."

"Just playing?" Florida asks, smiling under his helmet. "Team game?"

"Yeah," the smallest boy says. "She’s it."

"Seems like an unfair advantage you have," he observes. "Girl, would you like some…"

"Either do something or go away," she shouts up at him. 

"Do something? Does it matter what I do?" 

"A little help would be nice."

Florida pulls the knife from his side and throws it down at the group. It lands, quivering, in the ground next to the girl. 

"Fate helps those that help themselves."

The boys are look from the knife to him in confusion. It gives her all the time she needs. Florida actually smiles at how quickly she grabs up the knife and drives it into the back of one of the boys. 

When it’s over he smiles, leaps lightly down the two stories, ducks into a roll, and hops to his feet as he stops. Smiles down at the girl with her bloody knife, standing in the mess of bodies. She managed to take down two, quite impressive for the age she looks to be, but the streets mature you fast. Especially street rats. 

"Do you have a helmet, kid?" he asks, and she’s brandishing the knife at him. That takes guts. He likes that. She’s exactly what he needs. All he has to do is teach her not to bite the hand that feeds her. 

She shakes her head, still staring up at him, but her eyes aren’t as hard now. They’re just wary. “Broke. Sneak into buildings when the clouds come.”

"What about a name. You got one of those?"

A brief moment of hardening as she nods. “Gail… Abigail.”

He smiles, nods, quickly disarms her with a brief motion that leads to her staring at him with eyes wide with awe and fear. He leans down to clean the blade on the shirt of one of the boys before returning it to his side. 

"How’d you do that?" she asks for a moment. "I was just holding…"

"Would you like to learn, Abby?" he asks, smiling down at the girl as he stands. "I can teach you that. I can teach you a lot of things. No one will ever be able to hurt you again. Would you like that?"

She nods up at him. “Yeah. But I’m not doing noffin’ weird for it.”

Florida smiles, holds his hand out to her. “Deal. But before I teach you anything, I’m taking you out to buy some new clothes, a helmet, and some ice cream. How does that sound?”

The girl is positively beaming at him as she shakes his hand to seal the deal, as if the trauma of what just happened doesn’t even register. Good. She’s perfect. More than perfect. 

"Sounds good. I want chocolate."

"Anything you want that is in my power to give, will be yours. Including a new name. From now on, you’re Miami. Understand."

"Miami," she confirms, and when he offers his hand again she takes it. Walks out into the street proper with him, and doesn’t question. Doesn’t ask his name. Doesn’t ask where they’re going. She just trust him to hold up his end of the bargain.

Florida decides it’s the start of a beautiful relationship. 

* * * * * *

There’s a hand on his wrist as he’s reaching for the lab door, and Iota follows it right back to Tex. Worries his lip between his teeth at the disapproving look on her face. 

"This has to stop," she says quietly. "You four can’t keep killing yourselves like this."

Iota looks away, jerks his hand from her grip. He won’t, he can’t look at her, because he knows what he’ll find there. The level of worry, maybe even fear in those deep, dark eyes. He doesn’t want that, can’t handle that right now. 

"What the fuck do you expect me to do about it?"

She doesn’t call him on the language, but he does hear her lean against the wall behind him. It’s the way Tex gets defensive when she isn’t defensive. It’s merc through and through. Back to a wall, one foot braced against it to let them push off quickly, adding extra meat in front of a massive weak spot in the form of the body’s core. Tex perfected it years ago and on someone else it would be intimidating. 

Not Iota. 

"Go to Gamma," she says. "There’s word on the street, and you know if there is, he knows how to find it. He might not say anything, but he’ll have what you need to start hunting."

"And if I don’t like what I find?"

"We both know you won’t be able to rest until she’s back."

He worries his lip again, his hand coming up to the two chains under his shirt. One with two sets of dog tags like it always was when his twin was out on a job. The other with rings.

"I don’t…"

"Just do it, Io. We all know it needs done, and when it comes right down to it, there are only two people that she’d stop for at this point. You’re on the short list."

He is. Which is why he wishes he didn’t have to do this. He keys in the access code for the lab and goes through the door, and ignore the sound of Tex’s footsteps retreating. Sighs and moves to the locked cabinets in the corner. He’s going to need something different to handle this. 

* * * * * *

Gamma gives him a direction on a piece of paper and his best estimate for future behavior. Iota thanks him quietly, hugs his older brother, and promises to bring her back. 

When he tells South what he’s up to she gives him full raid of the armory and other supplies. He stuffs two bags with everything he thinks he’ll need for a long hunt. It’s easy, almost second nature. Makes sense since Wyoming was his first teacher, and Wyoming knows how to prepare for a long hunt. He packs food, cash, helmet upkeep supplies. Medical supplies. Extra clothes and salt water taffy. Loads it all up into a car that Four Seven lent to him without him needing to ask. He just walked into the garage while she was working on one of her babies and throws him the keys. Says she’s had it ready for him for a month and a half.

They all knew he was going to go eventually. That it had to be him. That he had to do it alone. No one knows what he’s going to find. There are reports of a woman in black stabbing a man who was striking his girlfriend. A drug deal broken up by a woman in black killing the dealer. A man who had a finger cut off for groping a woman in black. She’s cutting a bloody path through the city, slowly but surely, and Gamma’s last report suggests she’s actually a whole city over. Io doesn’t know Armonia half as well as he knows Gulch, but he’s going to try. 

He’ll bring her back if it kills him. 

He’s half worried it will. 

* * * * * *

Armonia, in the grand scheme of things, isn’t very different from Gulch. Truth be told, one city is a lot like another here. A bastion of life in the wilderness of their world.

There are differences. For one thing, he doesn’t know people here. There is no insane support network. He has to go off of his training, his cash, and what information Gamma can feed him. For another, he doesn’t have his family to fall back on. But he’s got to do this.

Three weeks. That’s how long it takes to follow the stories and the carnage to a dead end alley and a familiar black form crouched in a defensive stance with her knife out in front of her. Three weeks and he can almost smell the danger radiating off of her. 

She doesn’t know him. Or she doesn’t care. 

"I’m sorry, Miami," he whispers, raises his dart gun, and fires.

He stands there through the momentary screams as she drops her knife and claws at either side of her helmet. Stands there and watches until she falls unconscious to the ground. 

* * * * * *

Iota remembers how he first met Miami. 

He remembers a girl of all of seven years with big eyes and an even bigger smile following Florida into the base. Following Florida into the base after he was gone for nearly eight months without a word to anyone. God, Iota had been so mad at him then. Mad at how he’d left Eta behind just as their siblings really started sniffing around him and his twin’s extracurricular activities under Wyoming and Florida’s careful watch. Mad at how broken up Wyoming had been, to the point where Eta spent her afternoons after school baking him monkey bread to cheer him up. 

Remembers her wide eyed and grinning as she took off the bright pink helmet in the same style as Florida’s and covered with cheap off the rack decals of flowers and rainbows and grizzly bears, a helmet that would one day be replaced with a cheery blue-green and then black. Florida hadn’t explained his absence, just introduced the twins in the kitchen to his ‘apprentice’ Miami, as if he hadn’t been gone for the better part of a year. As if he hadn’t abandoned them.

He remembers the little girl that had happily told him that Florida had helped her with the bullies and bought her new clothes to replace the ones covered with blood and bought her ice cream and a helmet and gave her a new name. Had seen her eyes go wide when Eta had helped distract the girl with knife tricks while Florida went to go find Wyoming to talk (and that had gone terribly, hadn’t it?). Couldn’t help but smile over how enthusiastic she was over the cupcakes Eta was making and how attentively she’d watched Eta as she decorated each with different colored flowers. 

He remembers how sunny and cheerful and gleeful she had been. How dismissive she’d been of him when he said he didn’t really do knife tricks like Eta, that he was more into guns. How she’d called guns ‘not elegant’ like Florida always did. 

He remembers how she’d smiled when he said Miami was a very cute name. 

He remembers when she used to smile all the time. When the only thing she was in the base was smiles and giggling and sunshine to the point where even Omega would crack a smile, or Gamma talk. 

Now she’s still, silent, stretched out on her bed, helmet off, curled around a pillow. Her hand clenches and unclenches, probably seeking some weapon to fight whatever nightmares the dart he’d hit her with had given her. 

She’ll wake soon. He knows that. He’s calculated the does. At least he thinks he has. Calibrated it to her body weight and health from her last check up with Grey. She doesn’t seem to have lost weight, but it’s hard to be sure with someone as small as she still was. She should wake up soon. 

He wishes she would do it with a smile. He knows she’s going to come away in that dangerous, deadly way he’s seen her come out of nightmares with before. Florida trained her well. Too well. 

And he broke her. Broke the sweet, smiling girl that Io’s known since she was seven and who had become a sweet, smiling woman and as deadly as her father. 

Io doesn’t even know how he’s supposed to fix her. 

* * * * * *

It’s a quiet thing. Personal. The five of them on the top of the tallest building in Gulch and sit together on the edge. They’re all comfortable with heights except Gamma, so he stays back from the edge. 

Iota takes the box. The one Epsilon had carved. Passes it to Eta.

Eta kisses Florida’s name, twists off the top. Passes it to Wyoming. 

He sighs, pops off the metal seal. Passes it to Miami. 

She shakes the ashes out into the air. Watches them fly away. 

Gamma waits for them away from the edge, Pulls them into his arms, one after another. Takes Miami’s hand when it’s done and leads them to the door back down. 

They said their goodbyes.

It was time to move on.


	15. Babysitting - Washington/York/North Dakota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash comes back to base to find his boyfriends caught up in a different kind of job.

"Hey Wash, you’re just in time!" York calls as Wash shuts the main door behind him, midway through hauling his helmet off.

"Just in time?" Wash asks, slipping the duffel from his shoulder as he fully entered the common room and found his lovers sitting on the couch. "What’s going on? Are we…"

North shoots him a look over the back of the couch that freezes Wash in his tracks, frowning at the warning in his eyes.

"We’re babysitting!" York cheerfully announces, and just like that the cheerful asshole that Wash loved for reasons he still wasn’t certain of was almost tossing a giggling girl into the air and catching her.

"Delta’s going to kill you if he sees you doing that!” Wash gasps, dropping his helmet and running forward as York grins at him.

"Delta’s not here," North sighs, holding Iota firmly in his arms on the couch as Wash leans in for a kiss for him.

"Yeah, D’s out clothes shopping with Sig and Gam and Ep, and Carolina’s out on a job, and Meg’s at work, so D decided to drop them with us," York teases, pulling Eta into his lap and starting to tickle her.

"So Delta left the twins in North’s care because everyone else is out and you just happened to elbow in on it?"

York just grins.

"Need another adult, North?"

"Always," North sighed, lifting Iota up and into Wash’s arms. "It’s snack time, so let’s leave York here so he doesn’t make a bigger mess than Eta."


	16. Candy Thief - Florida & Doctor Grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Florida's apprentice gets herself into trouble, and sometimes it's a shock to the others in the base.

"Can I talk to you?"

Florida sighs as he looks up from his coffee and toward the young woman in the lab coat that had apparently become a part of the lives of the mercs in the eight months he’d been gone. Plasters on his best fake smile and looks up at the cheerful medic with the impossibly blue eyes and hair shot through with a purple streak that had to be South’s fault.

"Of course. My door is always open, Doctor."

"The little girl you brought back with you… Miami was it?"

Florida nods and gestures for her to continue. “What about her?”

"I’m here!" Miami’s voice cheers as she pops out from behind Grey, beaming up at him with a face that looked smeared with color and almost sticky.

"What happened?" he asks, eyes wide and utterly aghast. "I thought you were supposed to sit down and watch Carolina and Connie sparring while I had my coffee."

"She didn’t," Grey giggles, taking the girl’s hand and pulling her over to the sink. Florida watched as she pulled out a wash cloth, wet it, and started to clean the sticky mess off of the girl’s face. "She snuck into my office and found my bag of lollipops, didn’t she?"

"Yep!" Miami agrees so cheerfully that Florida couldn’t help but smile at the girl.

"And she’s in biiiiiiiig trouble, isn’t she?” Grey asks, her voice just as playful as Miami’s.

"Yep!" Miami giggles.

"And what do we say when we steal people’s candy?"

"Should have hid it better!"

Florida has to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the shocked look Grey shot him next to the grinning face of his apprentice.


	17. Shopping Trip - Eta & Iota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shopping trip turns into a normal attempt to pull the wool over their siblings' eyes.

"They’re _never_ going to let me keep these,” Eta sighs, staring at herself in the mirror.

"Well, they _are_ our older brothers,” Iota laughs, pointedly not staring at his sister looking over a pair of almost skin tight jeans she was trying on.

"But I love them so much! Look, they hug in all the right places. Think of all the heads I could turn at Errera in these!"

"I’d really rather not. You’re my sister too, E."

"Hey… Io…"

Oh god no. She was going to do it again. She was going to…

"Take these in your bag, okay? Meg doesn’t search your purchases."

"Because I don’t tend to buy form fitting clothes," Iota sighs. "But okay. This is the last time."

It’s never the last time.


	18. Older Brother Woes - Omega & Delta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delta and Omega talk about some of their concerns about the twins.

"Where do you think she keeps getting those clothes?" Omega sighs into his mug of coffee and sighing.

"She sneaks it in with Iota’s bags," Delta offers with his own sigh, though he doesn’t bother to look up from the book in front of him on the library table.

"Why haven’t you stopped her yet if you knew that?"

Delta shrugged and looked up at last. “Because she’ll get mad at us if we call her on it and then she’ll just find a new way to sneak them in.”

Omega sighs and shakes his head. “I just wish she was still small enough that we were buying clothes for her.”


	19. What You Do For Family - Omega & Delta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lengths Omega and Delta have gone to so they can be good siblings.

Omega takes his first full time job at sixteen. Lies about his age to get away with it, and he’s already weary enough to look old enough to pass. Gets up at six to pack off to the less than amazing construction gig that always has good money so at least he can support his brothers. Comes home early enough because of the limiting to daylight hours so he can cook and help Delta clean or look over homework, or just be there to play with his younger siblings.

Delta drops out of school at sixteen, when Omega is finally eighteen and his legal guardian and he can get his sibling to sign off on him getting ‘home schooled.’ He spends his days caring for their younger siblings, teaches himself with the computer in his free moments. Gets people up in the mornings, gets them out the door to their schools, and tries his best to keep them together.

And late at night, before they go to bed, they talk quietly in the dark of Omega’s bedroom— _they never talk about how it used to be Alpha’s_ —and figure out how to keep going. How to keep their siblings together. How to stay strong.

Because there is no one else there to be strong for them.


	20. Family Comes First - Gamma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When it all goes to hell there is one simple rule: Family comes first.

Family comes first.

It had been the watch word for them for as long as Gamma can remember.

Family protects you. Family provides for you. Family can be trusted to always want to help you and stand by you.

It makes it easier, he supposes, when things all go to hell. Because at least there is still the family there with him. Still Omega fuming at the changes going on, still Delta trying to maintain the normalcy of teaching them, still Sigma being a jerk, and the twins depending on them.

Gamma tries not to think about the fact that Epsilon stares off into the distance and Theta curls up with the twin mercenaries more than he ever did before, or that Omega has bruises all over him from his training, or that Delta flinches at sudden sounds.

Or the fact that Gamma himself hasn’t said anything in nearly a month.

Family comes first. Especially when nothing else makes sense.


	21. Big Brother - Delta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delta knows how to be a good brother.

The secret, he finds quickly, is in seeming to know what they want before they do. In heading off their monumental world ending crisis before it gets to life ending.

It is in the small things that make him seem like magic. In knowing that when Iota’s stuffed lion goes missing it always ends up between the bed and the wall, tangled in the sheets that Eta steals from her twin in her sleep. In knowing to keep spare pieces for Theta’s skateboard in his bag just in case they’re needed. Knowing that Eta likes apple juice with her graham crackers and throws a fit if he gives her Io’s grape. In knowing that story time starts at precisely nine because the twins are out cold by nine fifteen.

And knowing that when it comes down to it, Meg is the one. The one who they beam up at like they don’t remember the last time he reprimanded them. But it is Delta they kiss goodnight and who they wave to in the mornings when they go off to school. And they smile and it is all he needs.


	22. Growing Up - Theta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you grow up younger than people would think.

He can pinpoint the moment where he stopped thinking of himself as a kid. It came in a quiet, cold room. With his mind thick with pain and memory and his head so wild that he doesn’t recognize South when she reaches for him. The moment passes quickly enough and he settles into their arms like there is no safer place to be.

The world isn’t, never has been the same for them. No parents to speak of, only Meg and D. Birth names that are as weird on paper as on their tongues. They give each other middle names that are private to them and feel more like them, just like the nicknames they use.

When it’s over and he can see straight South takes him into their training room. Shows him how to throw a punch, a kick, how to headbutt without hurting himself too much. When he asks North he is told that if he still wants to learn when he is eighteen, North will give him a rifle.

He counts down the days until his eighteenth birthday and plans out how he is going to get Meg and D to agree.


	23. Throwing A Punch - Omega & Texas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After it all happens, Tex teaches Omega how to fight.

"You’re sure of this?"

Omega stares at Tex with narrowed eyes as she grips his arm loosely in one hand and wraps it carefully with the other. He knows she could do it faster, watched her wrap her own hands just moments before. So even this was going to be a lesson for him. Fine, he could handle that. Watches intently at the way she wraps, focuses on the gentle firmness settling around him.

"I need you to actually answer me, Omega. Legitimate verbal response. You’re sure about this?"

She releases his hand and Omega flexes his fingers, tests the give, and nods in satisfaction.

"I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my family, Tex."

"There isn’t safety in this, kid," she sighs, shaking her head as she stands and rolls up her long sleeves to showcase a wide variety of scars. Some seem to be from blades, some from bullets, and even one from a nasty burn. "This could get you killed."

"And it could get me feared. Which would go a long way to protecting them, right?"

"Fear isn’t always enough. The others have probably already put a healthy dose of fear into the general merc population over the eight of you. Do you really need more?"

Omega pushes to his feet and tests making a fist. Like this he almost feels strong.

"Are we doing this or not? Because Wash promised to take me to your range in an hour."

She sighs and her hands are on this again—feels strange like it did the first time—rearranging his hand.

"First lesson, how to form a fist. Never put your thumb on the inside. Form from the pinkie in. Curl the thumb firm but loose over it. Never wear rings or stuff like that, good way to break something, no matter what people think. Here, see mine? There you go. Much better."

There is something in her pleased smile that satisfies him like nothing else does.

"We’ll keep working on that as we go. Now let’s get you standing properly before we start you trying to pound on me."


	24. First Kill - Omega & Tex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omega's first kill and the lesson inherent in it.

He stands over the body, gun in hand, and looks at the spreading pool of blood.

"How does it feel?" Tex asks quietly at his elbow.

He thinks he should say something like ‘empowering’ or ‘amazing’ or ‘right.’

"Terrible," Omega admits with a sigh as he holsters the gun and looks like her.

"Good," Tex answers, turning to walk away. "If taking a life ever becomes pleasurable, I’ll put you down myself. This business has too many people in it for the blood."


	25. Why They Do It - Omega & Theta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a mercenary isn't an easy decision, but Omega thinks he understand why they made the choice.

The three of them go into it for their own reasons.

To be honest, Omega doesn’t quite know why Sigma does it. He knows why he does. It’s to protect his brothers. To keep their family safe. To keep them all secure. Theta…

Theta… Omega thinks does it to protect himself. Does it to be stronger, does it to keep anyone from every hurting him again.

Omega wishes he could just be there to keep his little brother safe. To keep the guns out of his hands. To keep him out of harm’s way.

But he gets why Theta does it. Which is why when he asks to train with the Twins… Omega doesn’t say no.


	26. Patched Up - Omega & Tex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omega gets hurt on the job sometimes. Maybe on purpose.

Her hands are soft, like a well worn cotton shirt. Her fingers are warm, like fresh bread right out of the oven. Her smile is always concerned, and her voice always cheerfully chiding and her eyes…

"You could have dodged the knife," Tex observes as Omega walks out of the infirmary, pushing off of the wall to walk next to him.

"Couldn’t," he sighs, continuing the argument from earlier. "I couldn’t have…"

"If you want to spend time with Grey, you can do it without getting hurt."

It’s easier to ignore her than to respond.


	27. Choices Made - Delta, Theta & Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theta wants to train, and Delta doesn't know how to handle that.

"No," Delta whispers. Repeats it more firmly. "No."

The look Theta gives him says there isn’t really any point in arguing. That doesn’t make Delta sit back down as he glares at his younger brother.

"Delta, calm down," Omega sighs and Delta turns on his older brother.

“You I can handle doing this. You’re even good at it, and you tend to have Tex backing you up. Theta…”

"Stop it, I’m eighteen, it’s my choice!” Theta shouts. “I’m doing this.”

"Theta, this is a bad idea," Delta insists. "You could get hurt."

"Been there, done that," Omega adds quietly. "So let him learn to protect himself."

With that Omega walks off, Theta dashing after him. Delta is left standing there unsure of what to do.


	28. Teddies and Lions - Carolina, Eta & Iota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins don't have a mother, but she's close.

They never had a mother. Well, clearly they did because they exist. But not in the meaningful way. The closest they had was Delta and…

She smiles softly whenever she sees them. She holds them both tightly in her arms and she wipes pasta sauce off their faces with genuine smiles. She tucks them in with their favorite blanket—the one off her bed so it smells like strawberries and smoke—and snuggles them up with Ryan the lion and Samson the bear and snuggles against them and tells them stories in a soft tone.

She isn’t their mother. But she’s as close as they’re going to get, and they love her.


	29. Support - Gamma & Wyoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wyoming heads out for a hunt, and finds a little help before he goes.

"Wait."

It’s a voice he doesn’t hear very often. A voice none of them hear very often. It makes Wyoming stop immediately, look back over his shoulder as he lowers the duffel.

"Gamma?" Wyoming asks, tilting his head and frowning. "I have to go. I have a job."

"I know," Gamma sighs, shaking his head. Extends an envelope.

"What’s this?"

Gamma smiles as it settles into Wyoming’s hand. “Where you can find your target. Should save you a few days, right?”

Wyoming just smiles as the boy walks away.


	30. Pride - Florida & Eta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Florida looks on the youngest of their number and is proud of what she has become.

It’s in the way she moves. Quick and deliberate, but always careful, always well balanced, graceful in a way that he’s seen in videos of big cat predators back on old Earth. All of the woman at the base have it in their own way, but none of them pull it off while looking as utterly harmless as the fifteen year old girl. Better than that, she turns it on and off like it was some kind of act rather than the woman she was growing to be.

It’s in the fact that he can pick out the slight bulge in the boots she wears out the door on her way to school every morning with Iota. He knows that bulge, and likes that she keeps a knife on her all the time. It’s something. Makes him half wish that Iota could keep his dart gun on him, but a ceramic knife was easier to sneak in places than any form of gun, so he has to trust her to look out for the both of them.

It’s in the confidence she possesses. Far too much for a fifteen year old who has been through what she has. Other people would be broken. Other people would have trouble getting out of their bed in the morning. But she’s up at the crack of dawn to get ready for school, even though she sneaks out of bed for an hour between one and two in the morning so she can spar with him. She’s quick on her feet, she learns fast, and he wishes he could give her over to CT. That woman could easily turn his pup into something to be feared in a way that Florida knows he’s never going to have the chance to.

She’ll never be his apprentice. It’s too late for that sort of training, too late to mold her the kinds of ways he was molded as a child. But that doesn’t make her any less proud of what she’s becoming of her own will.

No one will ever hurt her again. And that knowledge makes him smile.


	31. Looking On - Texas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ai family is a mystery that Tex wishes she could puzzle out.

If there was one thing she learned from Control, it was never question. Granted the jobs she worked back when she was one of theirs were always the tail ends. Things had gone wrong and she’d been sent in to clean up some other Control merc’s mess. To turn the failure into another blood splatter and finish a job that had thus been abandoned. She was dispatched so late into a story that all she really had was the protagonist and the objective. When one was dead and the other completed she had nothing to question.

It only got more important when she split and became the Soldier. A professional in her own right. When she started being Tex and stopped living by a code number. Clients didn’t want to explain how they had fucked up. Or admit how they had probably failed the mercs they had hired. Her entire job was to get in and out with no questions. That didn’t mean she didn’t have them, just that she didn’t ask.

The Ai family gives her all sorts of questions. An odd number of them the first time she sees the strange, vibrant purple of Theta’s eyes. Hundreds more the first time she sees Delta in passing, sees unworldly green sparkling behind his wire frames. Wonders why she can’t help but smile whenever she sees Eta and Iota, or why when Delta asks if she’d like to hold Io after she was staring at them for a while and she answered with a yes.

It’s because she never had a family of her own, she decides. That they made something of the strange circumstances that make Omega and Delta parents to their siblings. The orphan part in her calling out to something that she’d always wanted. Sure, she found a team among the other mercs, but that isn’t a family, and she thinks she always wanted a family growing up. A family is… everything.


	32. Recon - Gamma & Wyoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always best to go into situations prepared, and it helps to have another set of eyes to keep you appraised of the lay of the land.

His are the kinds of jobs that leave him gone for months at time. Even with Florida, CT and Gamma as informational support, some people go to ground well. The hunts take him far and wide. Leaves him out of the loop for what’s going on.

And yet it’s always there when he hits the city limits. A brief series of text messages on his comm.

_Eta and the brothers are fighting over a pair of knee high boots._

_Sigma has a new fling and Theta unknowingly making moves on her. Do not touch topic. Red zone._

_South has a new rocket propelled grenade launcher. Compliment her on it or face her wrath._

_CT is requesting updated availability reports for the systems. She can be lured off topic by bribing South with a box of chocolate covered cherries, the ones with cordial in them._

_Florida is in town._

Wyoming just smiles when the messages end, followed by a long since familiar symbol.

Gamma never let him walk into a dangerous situation blind. Now, he just had to go buy two boxes of chocolates before he hit the base.


	33. Extracurricular Part One- Iota & Florida

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iota's habits get back to Florida, who gives him a warning.

He enters his room and finds Florida there, sitting cross legged on his bed. Part of Iota just wants to back the hell out of the room then and there, to glare at the keypad by his door for it’s betrayal. Of course the second he moves at all Florida is glaring at him.

"What did I do?" he sighs, closing the door behind him with a resigned sigh.

"You’re going to get killed if you keep acting like a fool," Florida answers. Definitely Florida answering. There’s all the hardness of the merc right there. None of the feigned cheer of the Informant, or the genuine cheerfulness of the man who sort of adopted the twins as his own.

"I don’t know what you’re…"

"I found the Johnson," Florida says, voice cold. "The one from Eta’s last job? Well, I found parts of him. Most of him. Nice work on the finger nails, by the way. You know someone’s going to notice eventually, right? That some of her contractors go missing, or turn up dead? You’re going to get her _killed_ , Iota.”

"Florida, I know what I’m…"

"You’re only nineteen," Florida counters, pushing himself to his feet. "Contrary to what you two think, you don’t actually know everything yet. The next time I find one of your extracurricular projects, I’m raising the matter with Carolina."

"Wait, you can’t just come in here and…"

"Make sure I don’t _find_ any,” Florida finishes as he pushes past Iota and out through the door.

Iota smiles to himself after a moment. Really, they did deserve it, for getting Eta hurt.


	34. Extracurricular Part Two - Eta & Florida

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eta's habits don't get back to Florida, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know.

She doesn’t even flinch when she comes into her room and finds Flowers sitting on her bed. Okay, so clearly his stance and the disapproval radiating from him screams Florida, but she could hardly care. She doesn’t even bother to hide the small pouch of knives she carries to her desk. Eta even goes so far as to unroll it and reach for a bottle of cleaning fluid and a clean cloth before Flowers clears his throat.

"I’m not going to find the body am I?"

"Nope," she responds cheerfully. "I’m better at this than Io is."

"Good," he sighs, approval in his voice. "That’s my girl."

"Oh, can I borrow your portable welding torch?"

It’s good to know she can still make him laugh.


	35. Why So Serious? - Felix & Locus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Felix gets a little caught up in the moment.

"So… you want to know how I got this pauldron?" Felix asks, and the man pressed against the wall nods quickly, nervously, as if there isn’t a knife being stroked almost lovingly down his cheek. "Really?"

"Yes," the man confirms quickly, and Felix can hear Locus sigh behind him, can almost feel the disapproval radiating off of his partner.

"Well, you see, it all starts when I was eight years old. My dad was a real drunkard. He came home one night, worse than most nights, and my mom spilled his cup of coffee. And so dad, very angry, started yelling. Coming at her. And my mom, well, she got the kitchen knife and…"

There’s a loud bang in his ear and Felix just sighs and lets the body fall to the ground, not bothering to look at the pulpy mess of what used to be their victim’s head. Oh well, he’d have to take the hand for verification for their client.

"Oh come on, Locus," Felix sighs, pulling a cloth from a pocket to start wiping the blood off his helmet. "Why so serious?"

"I knew I shouldn’t have let you watch that old Earth movie marathon last week," Locus sighs.

"Okay, but really, who was the best Joker of all time?"

The debate lasts them well past when they get back to the client.


	36. Protection - Delta & Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who watches the watchers?

There are burns everywhere.

No. Not everywhere. So close to it though. Close enough that when he watches CT cut off his older brother’s shirt it just looks like a mess of ruined flesh. Fresh, terrifying burns over both of his arms. Burns down the upper part of his torso and wrapping around his sides and from the way Omega screams when CT and Carolina lift him to slowly start wrapping gauze around his chest, they are there on his back too.

Maine holds him back. Keeps him from running forward to go to his brother’s side. It makes sense. There are others to look to. Epsilon still isn’t awake. He’d already almost driven himself mad over the twins. Sig…

The list goes on and he stares at Omega as his older brother screams and North fumbles out a syringe and carefully fills it as CT directs. The screams die down, bit by bit, as whatever they pump into Omega starts to run through his system.

He stares and watches and bites his lip until Omega is unconscious and only whimpering. He needs to see to their siblings.

But he can’t deny how terrifying it is to see this. Omega was always the strong one. The one that was supposed to protect them.

So who protected Omega?


	37. Not The Time Or Place - Washington/York/North Dakota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes their timing sucks.

"So, Wash…"

"Oh god, not now," Wash groans into the comm as he ejects his spent magazine and slams another one home.

"I was just going to ask for some coverage on the right flank," York whines as he blasts another man with his shotgun.

"No, you weren’t," Wash sighs as he pulls a knife from the group of them on his thigh and lets it fly, taking one of their attackers in the throat as another falls from his visor almost exploding. The sharp bang of the shot finds Wash giving a thumbs up in the vague direction of where North is set up, covering them with sniper fire. "You and North have been awkward all mission."

"Have not," York protests.

"Actually, we kinda have," North comes into the argument, his voice echoing slightly in Wash’s ear from the way the left speaker in his helmet had been damaged by some asshole guard trying and failing to pistol-whip him properly.

"Yeah, okay, so maybe we have, but we had a good reason."

"No," Wash counters, popping up out of cover again to shoot into the attacking force. "Because you’re going to do something stupid like jokingly ask me out on a date while I’m trying to save your ass and it’s not going to be funny."

"And if it wasn’t a joke?" North asks over the comm again. "And if it isn’t him alone?"

Wash is left staring for a long moment and it takes the joint shout of North and York to get him to duck back down into cover while he tries to process.


	38. I Thought You - Delta & Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They really need to be more careful with who babysits the twins.

The kitchen is a mess. That’s the first thing Delta sees when he enters. There is chocolate frosting everywhere, powdered cupcake mix spilled all over the table and floor, and an egg splattered against the fridge. And none of that compares to the mess of the eight year old twins sitting on the floor on either side of Florida, all three of them laughing.

"I thought you were watching the twins," Omega sighs from behind Delta.

"And Epsilon told me you had them," Delta sighs as well as he advances to scoop Eta up. "Come on, let’s get them cleaned up.

"What about me?" Florida grins up at the two of them.

Delta looks to Omega, who looks back at him and tilts his head. Delta nods and keeps his expression blank as Omega grabs the pitcher of water on the counter and pours the whole thing over Florida and the giggling Iota.


	39. Changes Over Time - Carolina/Grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time makes you familiar with each other.

There’s gray in the roots of Carolina’s hair. Gray strains hidden among the blond roots that Grey only gets a chance to see when she’s lying in bed with Carolina, the mercenary asleep and Grey thinking about how easily she could lose her lover. They weren’t there when they first met.

And there are new wrinkles around Emily’s eyes. Small ones spidering out from the corners of her eyes that don’t fall in line with how Emily smiles. Instead they seem to match up to the way that Emily narrows her eyes as she’s busy stitching one of their friends up. They weren’t there once, were they?

But it’s been years, hasn’t it? Well over a decade, so they had the right to change, didn’t they?

And maybe the fact that they got close enough to pick up on the small details made the fact that they carried them all the more worth while


	40. Consider the Alpha - AIs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's talk about Alpha.

Let’s talk about Alpha.

Actually, scratch that. Let’s not talk about Alpha. Let’s not talk about how he was gone for longer than he’d been there now. Let’s not talk about how his shadow still hangs over them. About how some nights Omega lays in bed wondering if he’s doing what his brother would have wanted. How when Theta starts whining and protesting over not being allowed to go see his mercenary friends, Delta is certain that their oldest brother would have been able to quiet him down. And let’s especially not talk about how Epsilon looks up nervously whenever he hears a car park anywhere on their street, as if he’s hoping for the ghost in their lives to walk through the door.

He’s their best and worst kept secret. They don’t say anything about him. No, the ones who remember him best let him float around them in silence, in their actions, in the strange mess of emotions that rears its head whenever they think about him. Confusion. Pain. Grief. Betrayal. Guilt. They consider the younger ones to be lucky.

Sigma barely remembers him more than as brief glimpses and glances. Only a year younger than Epsilon, he should remember more. But he doesn’t. Maybe he did better at forgetting for his own sake. He’s luckier. Really, Gamma is the one that’s the luckiest in the opinion of his oldest brothers. Old enough to have had some time with Alpha when he was an infant, young enough that clearly he wasn’t going to remember anything.

They were wrong about that, but Gamma never corrects them.

As for the other three… Alpha isn’t even a name they have heard. Not in whispers, not in secrets, and they sure don’t see the ghost dogging their big brothers’ steps. Theta’s never known the name, never had a chance to know the brother. And the twins are happy, young, caught up in the love of their other six siblings. So what does it matter? Why give them that burden too?

Let’s talk about Alpha.

Actually. Scratch that. Let’s never do that again


	41. Shouting Match - Omega, Sigma, Gamma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigma breaks Gamma's computer, and Gamma wonders if he wouldn't be better off without siblings.

Omega, Sigma, and Gamma having brotherly bonding time. Or making someone wish he was an only child.

They shout at each other.

Sigma shouts because he doesn’t think he should be grounded or have his allowance docked. Omega shouts because Sigma is shouting and because he was throwing a ball around indoors. Gamma looks down at the laptop he had fixed up just for himself and maybe he isn’t crying, but it was a near thing.

They shout at each other and Gamma bites his lip as he looks at the cracked screen. Runs his fingers through his hair as he looks at the chunk missing from the case and the circuit board sticking out of it is almost cracked in half.

They shout at each other and Gamma thinks about how many months he worked to get the computer functional. How much work it had taken, how much of his money, how much careful attention had gone into fixing pieces and figuring out how it worked.

They shout until Omega has won and Sigma gives him a quiet and insincere apology, and Gamma just sits there, staring at his broken computer.

Sometimes he wonders if it would be better if he was an only child.

Except no. They’re his family, and family is everything.


	42. Joker - Wyoming & Gamma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wyoming finds an appreciative audience for his jokes.

"What do you get when you cross a grapefruit and a rock?"

"Oh god, Wyoming, please just stop,” York groans, rolling his eyes. “Come on, it’s been twenty minutes and no one has so much as snickered. Just stop.”

"A rock that squirts in your eye," Wyoming grins.

York groans and rolls his eyes. The sound is so loud that it almost completely covers a quiet chuckle. Wyoming immediately looks to it and finds the quiet Ai boy, Gamma if his memory is corrected, smiling softly as he looks down at the laptop he had just brought into the room and set down to work on.

Well… maybe he wouldn’t stop telling jokes.

"Knock knock."

"Oh shoot me now," York protests, and Wyoming just watches the small smile Gamma wears grow.


	43. Unexpected Visitor - Connecticut & Gamma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie's morning ritual is disturbed.

When Connie comes into her tech lab early in the morning, her first, half-finished cup of coffee in her hand, she expects a lot of things. She expects the lights to come on without her having to touch the switch. She expects the computers to already be on because of the timers programmed into them. She expects the room to be a wonderfully chilly fifty degrees so she can be comfortable in her big fluffy sweater while she wakes up.

She doesn’t expect the young man seated at her work table, tinkering with the open control panel of a helmet.

"Gamma?" she asks, shocked into full consciousness as the teen looks up at her nervously, and maybe a touch guiltily. "What are you doing? How did you get in here?"

He blushes faintly and she watches him reach for the pen and pad he kept at his side these days, scrawling a hasty note. Right. That was a thing.

She sighs and crosses to him, looks down at the notepad as he returns his attention to his work.

Couldn’t sleep. Nightmares. Heard Washington had problems with sound systems. Decided to fix it. Get a tougher door code.

Connie stares down at the message for a while before shaking her head and looking to Gamma again. “Hey, kid…”

He looks up, concern on his face.

"You’re going to need a soldering iron ro handle that rerouting you’re doing. There’s one in the second drawer on your left."

Gamma smiles up at her, a soft and rare thing, and Connie just sits down at her computer desk and wakes up her system. If something was making him happy, then who was she to interfere? Sure, she’d check his work later, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t need to fix it.


	44. How To Handle Theta - Gamma & Theta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamma isn't used to being a big brother, and it takes a lot of work to be one to Theta.

To be honest, of all of them, Theta is the one that Gamma understands the least. He’s energetic, he’s open, he’s cheerful, and he never stops moving. He’s like a bolt of energy coursing through whatever room he’s in, and as bright and warm as the sun in the middle of the wastes on a cloudless day. None of it makes sense to Gamma.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t try. He quietly helps Theta with homework whenever his little brother asks. He shows Theta videos he finds online about skateboarding. When Theta wakes up in the middle of the night in their shared bedroom and needs water, Gamma goes to fetch it for him.

And when Theta crawls into his bed after a bad dream because he needs comfort but doesn’t want to admit how scare he is to their older brothers… Well, Gamma just pulls him close and quietly whispers that he’ll never let go.


	45. Happy Birthday - Gamma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthdays aren't really Gamma's thing.

When he’s ten, he asks if they can skip his birthday party. By then he’s learned that he doesn’t like the noise, doesn’t like the attention, and doesn’t like the way that Delta stresses out over preparation. It’s not like he likes cake, he doesn’t need a present, and all he really wants is to have a quiet day where he can read.

When he’s eleven he asks if they can just go with the cake and no big deal. The lack of cake, the lack of a party, had confused Theta the year before, and he didn’t want to make it harder on the seven year old. He liked the fun, the noise, the happiness.

When he’s twelve he lets Delta make a nice, quiet affair for the family. They bring in gifts and there aren’t decorations, but there is cake and everyone sings happy birthday at the top of their lungs. They look so happy like that.

When he’s thirteen he realizes that it’s not about him. He tells Delta and Omega he wants a big party. He smiles through the cake, grins at the decorations, plays games with Theta all day. For one day he decides he can handle being cheerful and happy with them, handle the noise and attention they foist upon them. Because it’s not about him, it’s about them.

When he turns fifteen and he walks into the common room of the mercenary base, met by loud cheers of ‘surprise’ and more bright, happy faces than he knows what to do with, he just smiles. It’s for them, he reminds himself. Their celebration of having him around. 

And honestly? It’s starting to grow on him.


	46. Ghost Stories - Sigma, York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a headcanon from Recovery-Washington of tumblr.

"And then, _boom_!” Sigma shouts, his hands smacking together (cupped by the sound of it to make it more echoy) hard to try and emulate the desired sound, and sure enough there was a set of quiet shrieks and whimpers from both of the twins _and_ Theta. “The explosives went off and rocks fell everywhere, shutting the final tunnel closed. The rubble was so thick that even if they dug for days they’d never move it…”

"Sigma!" Delta’s voice cuts through the air, sharp with reprimand and York smirks from his place stretched out on the couch with a book over his face. Sigma was in so much trouble now.

"What have I told you about telling scary stories before bed?" Delta demands, and York just grins up into the pages that had been meant to shield him from the common room light to shield him from a nap, and was instead letting him hear Sigma tell his creepy story.

"Not to," Sigma’s voice is defeated, trouble no doubt assured in his eyes.

"Congratulations, you’ve earned yourself hand to hand with Maine in the morning," Delta snaps, and there’s a groan behind it that says his younger brother is not excited for that prospect. Knowing Delta, he’d manage to talk the big guy into it as well. York almost pitied the kid.

Almost.

"And _you_!” Delta continues, voice low and ominous. Who could he be mad at? Had someone else snuck into the room to listen to Sigma while York had been pretending to nap?

"Don’t think I can’t tell you’re awake York. I’m going to tell Tex you were hoping for some pugil sticks training tomorrow," Delta growls even as the book is whipped away from York’s face, blinding him with the overhead light.

"Ow! Shit, D, what the fuck are you talking about?" York groans, sitting up and covering his good eye with his hand. The other one was still a little light sensitive, but not nearly enough to care.

"You just laid there and let Sigma tell ghost stories about Necropolis?" Delta snaps, and his voice only ever gets like that when he’s really mad.

"What did you expect me to do?" York counters, carefully peaking out between his fingers. Nope, still too bright. "He’s an adult. Marginally. And they’re his siblings. You put him on bed time duty tonight, not me."

"You’ve _been_ there! You could have put an end to this foolishness just by telling them what you saw!”

York resists the urge to smile, because part of him wanted to insist that there really were ghosts. But… But mostly he just didn’t want to remember that week of going through the lost city. DIdn’t want to remember the strange sounds that Carolina had insisted were only the echoes of their footsteps, or the way the structures had cast foreboding shadows in the light of their lamps. No. He didn’t want to think about what Necropolis was at all.

Sometimes reality was far worse than any story that could be told.


	47. Can We Have A Dog - Theta, Delta, Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theta keeps asking, and Delta keeps saying no. And then Omega opens his big mouth.

"Theta, we can’t," Delta sighs the second Theta comes in with the big book of dogs. "There are complications with raising a dog here and…"

"But Wash got a cat!" Theta protests.

"Wash has his own money, is more responsible, and the cat stays indoors," Delta points out quietly. "Primarily in Wash’s room and the library, seeing as it and Florida have differences."

"Pleeeeeease?" Theta whines. "I promise to take good care of it!"

"He’s not going to let up on this," Omega observes dryly, not even looking up from his book.

"We’re not equipped to handle a dog," Delta sighs with a sharp shake of his head.

"Yeah, but there are these companies that can build pseudo-outdoor places with cultivated plants and we could have one of those!" Theta suggests cheerfully.

"And we can’t afford that," Delta reminds him with a sigh.

"You’d be better off asking York, kiddo," Omega adds. "He at least has the money to… Oh no."

Theta was out of the room in a flash and when Omega looked up he met the dark look Delta was shooting him without flinching. Barely.

"You know the only reason York hasn’t started saving up to get a dog is because he gets overruled by Wash every time he suggests it,” Delta sighs, shaking his head. “Now…”

"Now he has a reason to do it anyway," Omega sighs. "Wonderful. Just what we needed. More noise around the base."


	48. Olympia - Wash, Eta, Iota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins just wanted to play with Wash's cap.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay," Wash hushes, opening the med kit and pulling out a band-aid.

"I just wanted to play," Iota sniffles, his free hand going up to rub at one of his eyes.

"You’ve got to be careful with Olympia," Wash says, voice still soft as he wraps the band-aid around the scratches on Iota’s finger. "You moved really fast, trapped her in a corner, and she got scared. Scared things try to protect themselves."

"Li-like you help protect everyone?" Eta asks nervously from beside her twin brother, her arms still wrapped defensively around Iota. "Are you scared then?"

More than they would ever know. But really, who told that to five year olds?

"Nope. I’m a super hero," he smiles, bringing Iota’s hand up to kiss the band-aid like he always saw Delta or York do. "See, all better."


	49. Prank Masters - Gamma & Wyoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamma and Wyoming bond over chess, tea, and jokes.

"I don’t suppose you could… change the access code on York’s locker, could you?" Wyoming asks, his voice carefully schooled toward casual disinterest.

Gamma just raises an eyebrow as he moves his knight and captures Wyoming’s rook before reaching for his cup of tea. “And what… hypothetically would you change it to?”

"Say…5-6-6-2-5-5-6-6-2-5."

It takes a lot for Gamma not to burst out laughing as he nods. Yes. It would be perfect.


	50. Just A Scratch - 479er & York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He shouldn't have hurt her baby.

"York."

The voice is hard and sharp and everyone in the poker game froze, all eyes slowly turning to face the sudden anger of 479er.

"Why did no one tell me she was coming in today," York whispers frantically, moving to duck under the table. He was held back from his escape by Maine’s hand reaching out to grip his collar.

"Don’t," Maine warns him, and then Niner is there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

"Uh… hay Niner," York squeaks out as she takes her helmet off and he’s met with a hard, no, murderous look.

"Did you wreck one of my precious girls!?”

"It’s only a scratch!" York protests.

"So it was you," she says triumphantly, and with a small gesture York finds himself hauled to his feet by Maine. "Your ass is mine."


	51. Cooking Lessons - Omega, Tex, York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> York asks for help in the kitchen and gets turned down.

"No," Omega says, arms crossed firmly over his chest. "No way. No fucking way."

"Oh come on," York whines. "I’m sure…"

"No, I’m with Omega here," Tex agrees, glaring at the half-blind mercenary. "There is no way you’re allowed to cook anything. Ever.”

"Except coffee," Omega adds. "But I’m not having him ruin any of the pots again."

"I was just trying to make…"

"Don’t care," Tex counters. "You melted a hole in a pot!"

"But…!"

"You keep protesting and I’ll tell Florida what happened to his favorite cake pan," Omega threatens.

That, at least, shuts York up.


	52. Silly String - South/CT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> South gets up to trouble when North isn't around. For South Appreciation Week.

Normally he’s there to stop the bad ideas in their tracks. Normally North is there, just magically fucking appears, whenever a mischievous mood comes across South. Normally he’s right there. Most days she doesn’t make it out of the armory with the silly string or the finger trap or even the cans of shaving cream she kept hidden behind the extra ammo for her missile pod.

Normally North doesn’t go on off continent missions without her. Normally he doesn’t go on off continent missions without her for a week.

"You really shouldn’t," Connie sighs as she sits on the top of a well sealed crate of grenades. "North is going to be SO pissed if you do this."

"Like I care," South grins, fetching out another can of silly string and tossing it to Connie. Her girlfriend laughs as she catches the canister. "That’s a week away, and York is pouting on the couch. We’re going to teach him that he’s not allowed to take it up on our movie night."

"We could watch something in our room," Connie giggles, pulling the cap off of her can and hopping down off of the crate and posing with the can like it was a gun.

"It’s the principle of the thing," South insists, striding to Connie and pulling her close to kiss her. Runs the fingers of her free hand through the short fuzz of Connie’s undercut. Drinks in the taste of those lips, always cherry because of the lip gloss Connie always used. And god the way Connie’s smaller body pressed up against hers was a drug almost as addicting as adrenaline.

"Cover my back," South whispers as she pulls away from Connie. "York is mine."


	53. The First - South

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> South's first kill isn't like the others.

She stands over a body.

She’s eighteen, her shirt is ripped down the middle, she can hear her brother’s voice somewhere in the fuzz of her head. There’s blood on her fists. She doesn’t remember how it got there.

"Nicky," her brother says, voice soft when there’s a hand on her shoulder and she knocks it aside.

"Don’t… Just…"

His coat settles around her shoulders, and her hands clutch it closed before her. She lets his hand settle at her elbow, lets him turn her. Her mind races as he guides her away, quietly whispering soft assurances that she doesn’t even process.

They leave the body behind.

They don’t know it’s only the start.


	54. Shock Collar - Maine/Delta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some secrets are harder to share than others. Like the deepest truths of your past.

"Why?"

A simple question as Delta’s fingers brush slowly over the cool metal.

There are a hundred stories, most of which Delta has heard came from Florida. There are legends and myths and theories. A demon contained by symbols etched on the inside of the metal. A way to hide a scar stretching across Maine’s neck, to keep him from showing even he is weak. A hundred more. That it presses too firmly against his throat and keeps him from talking.

"Why?"

Maine doesn’t answer this time. The silence keeps Delta from asking again. And Maine doesn’t tell him. Doesn’t tell him about the way a body shuts down when there is an electric current running through it. How the skin chafes red from the way the collar rubs against the skin. How you’re so small when the collar is on you, when adults are standing over you shouting.

He doesn’t mention how there’s still slavery in the universe. How it’s easier to train a child than it is to train an adult. How a child is scared of you, how a child is dependent on you. How a child…

How children from the slums on Adaptive just seem to be ideal for selling off planet. How sometimes merc groups with grudges sometimes go through to break the dealers. Free the merchandise.

How you’re never really free.


	55. The Garage - York, Florida, Tex/479er

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> York is avoiding the garage, given his poor luck.

Honestly, York’s a little surprised that no one noticed sooner. Of course it could probably be justified by just how many times Niner had given him grief in the past for imagined slights against her precious girls. Whatever. You could barely even see the scratch on the side view mirror of that jeep. Anyway, he’s frankly noticed that no one, not even Delta or Wash or Connie, have noticed it sooner.

But nothing stays quiet for long at the merc base. No secrets are absolute.

"York?" Florida calls across the common room to him, voice pensive in that way that it gets when York knows his life is about to become nothing but trouble.

"Bit busy right now," he says, hoping that Florida would take the words at face value and just drop it.

"Busy? You’re staring at the same page of that magazine that you were ten minus ago when North said he’d meet you in the garage in half an hour."

There was an urge to flip the page right then and there, but it was too late to defend himself like that.

"I just… I’m afraid to go in there, okay? Tex went in there twenty minutes ago."

"So?" Florida asks, a kind of amusement in his voice that said he knew just why that worried York.

"Shit, you know my luck, Florida! I’m certain that one of these times I’m going to go in there and find Niner and Tex doing it on top of one of the cars!"

Florida just laughs.


	56. Costumes - Eta and Iota, North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They always match, but as they get older North wishes they didn't choose some of the costumes they did.

When they’re six Eta goes as South, and Iota goes as North. When they’re seven they are Tex and Omega. They go with Carolina and Wash when they’re eight, and CT and York for their ninth.

Honestly, North thinks, it’s cute. They go as famous twins. They go as famous duos. They always match, they always coordinate.

That doesn’t mean he appreciates what they wear for their eighteenth birthday.

"South!" North roars as he watches Iota and Eta come out of their rooms in matching togas that were so short that North was certain if Iota bent over it would show off his ass. Actually, he knows it would.

"What!?" South roars back, utterly annoyed because that’s how she always is.

"You told me you burned those!" North groans. "You told me I’d never have to see that damn costume again."

Eta giggles as she listens. “What? I think Io looks great in your Apollo costume.”

North just falls back onto the couch and tries not to scream in frustration.


	57. Ghosts in the Halls - Gamma, Wyoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamma stays silent, and Wyoming watches him haunt the base.

He hasn’t said anything in three months.

Wyoming watches, just as silent. Watches the way the boy moves. Gamma gives everyone and everything space. He watches the way Gamma watches, his eyes nervous, as people move anywhere near him. He gives them space. Gamma stands aside when someone else moves. Makes sure the path is clear. Makes sure that no one will be around when he is going to move through the path. He flinches when there are loud noises. There is no eye contact, no noises, just a ghost flitting through the base.

The chess pieces still move.

Gamma always uses white. A ghost moving a ghostly army.

Wyoming would like to say he lets him win, but the truth is he just struggles to keep up. All he can do is watch and wait. Patience always wins.


	58. Pan Fire - York, Florida

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> York still doesn't listen about not cooking.

"Oh god oh god oh god oh god."

"Is that smoke I smell?" Florida’s voice rang through the base, and York grabbed a towel and started beating at the frying pan that had somehow caught fire.

Florida was going to kill him.

Oh god… Florida was going to _kill him._


	59. Privacy Issues - York, Omega/Grey/Carolina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> York never learns to knock.

"Hey, Lina you in…"

The second York has the door to Carolina’s room open there is a pistol in his face. A pistol being held by one of the least stable personalities in the whole base.

"York…" Omega says, voice hard and furious and York just backs out through the door.

"Learn to knock!" Carolina shouts, and it’s punctuated by giggles that York knows as Dr. Grey’s and wow, York is so out of there before one of the three psychos kill him.


	60. Hairpin Trigger - South/Felix, North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a reason South's friendship with Felix is chaperoned.

"Hey South, I…"

North paused in the doorway of his twin sister’s room, staring down the barrel of a rather high caliber pistol. For a moment he wondered if this was what it was like to be York, always walking in at the wrong moment.

"Don’t kill him," he heard South mumble sleepily into Felix’s bare chest. "He’s m’brother."

"Yeah, not seeing that as a great motivating factor right now."

"Gunshot will make hangover worse."

That bit of brilliant insight made Felix return the pistol to South’s nightstand, and North sigh.

"You see, this? This is why Locus and Connie and I don’t like to leave you two alone when you’re drinking!”

"Go ‘way or I’m gonna lean up and flash some boob," South threatens.

North just sighs and leaves the room. He’ll give them another hour to stew.


	61. Star Stuff - Epsilon, Alpha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are things Epsilon remembers of Alpha that he keeps to himself.

A crystal clear night is a rare thing on Adaptive. There were so many factors affecting the sky, from the obvious plague clouds, to the dust kicked up by the winds in the waste lands, to normal weather patterns, and right on down the line to the more mundane pollution that sometimes faded out the sky. And that didn’t even begin to take into account how light pollution washed the sky out on its own

A night where someone could just sit back, unafraid, and look up at the brief smattering of stars scattered about the sky was so very, very rare. And so, more clear nights than not Epsilon finds himself on the roof, helmet off, staring up at the limitless wonder of the star filled sky.

Omega stopped giving him dirty looks for leaving a ladder leaning against the back roof so he could climb up on those rare nights and lay there, stretched out on the roof, staring up at the meager offerings of the night sky. Delta stopped yelling years ago as well. They know why he goes up there, after all.

Or they think they do.

They can’t understand, Epsilon decides, lifting his hand, a single finger extended, as he traced constellations.

 _That’s the Outcast,_ he can hear Alpha’s voice whisper in his ear through the distant haze of time. It’s soft, briefly awed, and highly amused. _And right there? That really bright point of light? That’s his heart. It’s the star Sirius._

_Why’s that his heart?_

_Because of all the stars in the night sky that you can see from Adaptive, Sirius is the easiest one to find that our night sky shares all year with Earth, the birth place of Humanity. The stories say that when the first settlers of Adaptive were sent here, they were outcasts, sent from Earth. And they always held their home near and dear to their hearts. Sirius represents that. They say you can follow Sirius all the way home._

_Can you?_

Alpha always laughed when Epsilon asked that.

He never answered.

Never would, Epsilon supposed as he reached up and covered Sirius with his thumb, blotting it out of the night sky. He knew it backward and forward now. Knew all the constellations for the whole year, could identify them easily, even though he couldn’t see half of the stars that composed them.

Sometimes Sigma teased him for the posters of stars, planets, galaxies and nebulae that plastered his half of their bedroom. But Sigma…

_Why don’t we ever show the others this?_

His own voice as a child had been soft, nervous, high and he might even go so far as to say lilting. He knows it perfectly, knows these moments from his past almost too well. He can remember looking into Alpha’s eyes, marveling at the silvery color and the strange, almost iridescent sheen to them, looking into those eyes and feeling like all the limitless wonder of the night sky was nothing next to his biggest brother.

_D is too worried he’d fall, Meg doesn’t like the sky all that much, and Sig is afraid of heights. So this…_

Alpha’s arm sweeps up from behind his head to encompass the sky with a single, wide gesture.

_All of this? It’s ours, Eppy. Only ours. We get to share something no one else does._

_What’s that?_

_We’re looking into the past._

_The past?_

_Yeah. The light from our own sun is almost six minutes old by the time it gets to us. But those? Those are way further away. So the light we’re seeing is probably millions of years old. Cool, right? Those stars could already be gone and we wouldn’t know it until way after._

_Where do stars go when they’re gone?_

Epsilon had gone still when Alpha reached down to run his fingers through Epsilon’s hair. He remembers that. He’s certain of that.

_Into us, Eppy. You. Me. That plastic tree. This house. The whole planet. Space ships, other stars, whole galaxies. We’re all made from the tiniest bits and pieces of exploded stars. Somewhere, really far back, you were part of a star. Can you believe that somehow, somewhere along the line, the universe aligned in just the right way to make you out of stars?_

Alpha always spoke like that when they were alone. Full of wonder and disbelief and awe. When he didn’t have to be their big brother, when he could just be a boy growing up like them, he was so different.

He sighs and lets his arm fall limply to his side. Maybe he should bring Theta up here some night. Show him the stars that Alpha had given him. Share the wonder and tell him that they’re all made of little bits of stars.

No, he decides, staring up at Sirius.

No. This would stay only his. He would stay up here every clear night and look at the stars and hope.

Hope that maybe the bits of star in him would call out to those in Alpha, and that some night his brother would just climb up the ladder and join him, as if nothing had happened in the years between. Or, at least, that Sirius would find a way to guide their brother home.

Hope desperately through a star scattered night sky even as he spent his days, and other nights, certain that Alpha was never coming back.


	62. Sixty Percent - Maine/Delta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A relationship explored through percentages.

They are sixty percent silence.

Honestly after years of raising his younger siblings, of listening to Sigma’s questionable choice in music, staying up late to discuss lessons or scientific theories with Epsilon, Delta is more than a bit overdue for silence.

He’s used to cheered affections from the twins, bashful hugs and whispered admittances from Theta. Gamma says it with a smile and a whisper that Delta is never quite sure he’s heard. Sigma… Well, Sigma says it in his own ways, even if he never says the words, and Epsilon does it by washing the dishes when Delta’s worn out at night. Omega… He’s the only one of the older siblings that says it, with his hand gentle on Delta’s shoulder and his face sad and thankful all at once.

What he isn’t used to, isn’t prepared for, is the way Maine holds him. The way the other man, the bigger man, pulls Delta into his arms. The way that there is a light kiss pressed first to his forehead, then on the cheekbone below one eye, then the other. The way those lips move softly, silently, down along his jaw, hover briefly over his nose, brushes against his lips but doesn’t alight there.

Delta doesn’t know how to handle the way Maine takes his hands, one at a time. Kisses the pad of each finger, kisses each joint, kisses the meat of his palm, and then lightly on his wrist like his affection is a spot of perfume for Delta to drape himself with.

Maine declares his love in the way he wakes up at five in the morning on the days he isn’t out in the field, rolls out of bed with Delta, lets Delta shower while he goes to wake the twins and help them dress for their day. He gives his affection quietly as he sets the table with one of the twins on his hip and the other clinging to his leg while Delta spends a few minutes shaking Theta out of bed.

They are sixty percent silence.

His lips part, gasping but silent as Maine’s fingers trail over his collarbone. They say nothing as Delta reaches out, unlocks the collar, and sets it aside. No words at all as Maine’s hands side under his shirt, works it up his body, and Delta holds back a moan as he feels his muscles jump from the touch. The bedsheets are pulled aside with a soft whisper of fabric, but when Delta is stretched out on the bed he knows he’s silent. The press of Maine’s lips against his chest are light and soft and Delta doesn’t moan when he presses up into them.

The noises they allow themselves are quiet pants and soft groans and the press of skin on skin.

They are sixty percent silence.

But the other forty percent is beautiful.

It’s the way the walls seem to shake with the rich basso tone of Maine’s laugh. The way Delta’s name rolls off of Maine’s tongue and makes him breathless. It’s in the quiet exchanges they whisper when they lay together in bed, first thing in the morning or linger awake late at night. Delta loves the secrets and declarations whispered in his ear. Hates to admit he loves his own laughter when Maine comes up behind him and picks him up.

Yes Maine wakes him in the morning, but he guides Delta into the shower and reads Delta’s schedule off of the list in his mind and hands him everything that he needs.

And then there’s music. When Maine turns on the music in his room and holds his hand out and Delta smiles. Their bodies fit together well, and they move slowly, gracefully through the room in a way that doesn’t make sense for how large Maine is or how clumsy Delta is.

But really, for all the music and laughter and how he loves the forty percent, there’s something powerful, compelling, right about the silence.

Because the room is utterly silent as Maine takes his hand and gets down on his knee. There’s no sound as he slowly opens a jewelry box.

Delta only smiles when he sees the ring.


	63. Beat the System - South, Felix, South/Felix?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> South and Felix know how to play the system.

They're a perfect team, not that anyone ever gives them credit for it. He's got all the creativity in the world. She has no ability to stop once she starts on a plan. He has charm and beauty. She has sheer intimidation factor. People can't say no to her. People don't say no to him. 

There's a reason that Locus and North don't let them go off on their own alone. 

There's a reason they sneak out anyway. 

He wears form fitting pants and a shirt that clings to his chest and silver bracelets set with jewels. She opts for mean clothes: boots she rarely wears with spikes on the toes and up and over the knees. Together they look almost ridiculous. And like that they head out. 

Sneak out actually. 

South pays York to distract North. She knows it takes nothing more complicated than York's shirt off and a come-hither look, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have to bribe the asshole to do what he knows he wants to do anyway. But it's what it takes, and to get a night out without oversight is worth every penny. 

Part of her wonders if her brother has figured out that it's deliberate, if he connects absences with York being all over him, but she doesn't think so. If he did then he'd be there at the airlock waiting for her. But he never is, never seems to realize why she comes back so drunk. Maybe even doesn't care to let them do it every now and then. 

For Felix it's easier. All he has to do is dress up, head out the door and pause briefly when Locus asks. He claims that he really needs a pretty piece of tail, something Locus can't give him and doesn't like to share in—unlike a nice piece of ass, which is sometimes a treat for them both—and then he's free for the night. Unlike South, Felix is certain that Locus has put two and two together, but since Felix hasn't been arrested over it yet Locus hasn't stepped in. Maybe Locus assumes they take North or someone else responsible with them. Felix can't know. That guy's thoughts are about as transparent as a plascrete wall, so why even bother. 

The game takes place in private room at Errera. They meet out front, stow their helmets, and head into the mass of people. South watches from a table, orders the very specific combination of drinks, sending the third back and only half drinking the second, and that signals interest in the game. Felix passes the time on the dance floor. Marks a few likely targets for when they're done. Waits until he hears South's sharp, piercing whistle when the guard that acts like the bouncer for the game shows. 

She's always first through the door, the intimidating form of a deadly merc who has no problem advertising what she is. Her presence, dressed in the full menacing mode, paired with the reputation of South Dakota, keeps cheaters from the table. 

Except for Felix. 

That's the secret. She acts as the deterrent. But no one knows what the merc known by a variety of handles is the same as the small, beautiful, charming young man who sits at their table. They think he's as afraid of her as they are. They don't look close because they've seen South break a hand of a legit cheater. Felix is just the bright, cheerful, talkative asshole who's decently good at cards. 

No one thinks to look close enough to realize that on nights when South is down, Felix is way up. No one realizes that when Felix breaks even, South is taking most of the pot. 

Does it still count as gambling when you have a system down that perfectly? 

At the end of the night they split up. One leaves immediately, the other finds one of the beautiful women Felix picked out as a target and gets friendly for a while before heading out. 

They meet up at a hotel up the street to split the take. 

And some nights...

Well, some nights they don't see a reason why they shouldn't make use of the bed.


	64. Unexpected Duty - 479er, Theta, Eta, Iota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niner ends up with a job she never expected.

She doesn't think it's intentional. 

She hopes it isn't intentional. 

Someone please tell her this wasn't intentional. 

“Niner, what's this for?” 

Niner sighs and turns to look at Theta, sitting in the back of one of the larger jeeps, holding up the polishing cloth that she had been using before the trio of children had been foisted on her as Carolina and North and South had bolted through the door to do the unlikely: recover Recovery. 

She guessed this solved the question of who recovered Recovery. 

“That's a polishing cloth,” Niner explains, taking it gently from Theta's hand and then reaching up to lift him out of the jeep. “You take it, get some wax on it, and rub it gently over the car, like this.”

She shows him how to make small, gentle circles, how to polish her baby to a beautiful shine. He beams at his reflection, his eerie purple eyes glinting in the bright blue-tinted light of the garage.

“Is that good?” he asks, and she smiles, nodding. “Where... did North and South go?”

“Tell you what, kiddo,” Niner says, reaching out and ruffling his bright blond hair. “You make this whole back of the jeep shine so you can see your face in it, and I'll tell you all about it, okay?”

“Awesome!” Theta cheers, setting to the task with a will. 

With a sigh Niner turns toward the larger of her problem. The play pen set up near the door. The play pen with two disgruntled four year olds who see this more as a prison than Niner's attempt to keep them safe from all the dangers inherent in a garage filled with at least twenty different vehicles. Some mounting weapons. 

Eta pouts at her when she comes over to them. It would be sombering if it wasn't just so cute the way the little girl juts out her lip and sits on her bottom and doesn't look at Niner while she crosses her tiny arms over her tiny chest. Iota, on the other hand, just looks up from his ball with the most pathetic look ever. If there was ever a child who had perfected the miserable look, it's Iota. His soft gold eyes hooded, his lip threatening but never quite reaching shaking, his hands firm on the ball and not looking anywhere else...

These two would be the death of her. 

“Do you want me to tell you a story?”

That had both sets of eyes on her, bright and inquisitive. Sometimes, kids were easy to handle. 

“You know stories?” Eta asks in that cute way little girls did when they were trying to get something, and she did it by pulling on her curls and clutching her stuffed bear—Niner was told it was named Samson and was very precious to the AI family—and smiling up at Niner. 

“Of course I know stories. Everyone knows stories,” Niner sighs, looking briefly back toward Theta. The task she'd given him should take a while, seeing as she wasn't giving him any extra polish. When he came over and complained she'd tell him about the polish and show him how to do it right. That should give her another half an hour. 

Hopefully that would be enough.”

“What kind?” Iota asks, his voice soft like Niner had been warned it would be. He's the quiet one. He's the soft one. Well, she hoped he wouldn't let his twin walk all over him for all of their lives, but really, four years old give or take wasn't really enough time to figure out what they'd really be like. Right?

“Lots of really exciting ones. Like that time I...”

Niner trails off. That really wasn't an appropriate story for a child.

“Okay, well once I...”

No, that wouldn't work either.

“Uh... Well...”

Fuck. 

“You wanna play ball?” Iota asks, holding his ball up and out toward her. 

It's a lifeline, whether he knows it or not, and Niner smiles thankfully as she takes the ball from him and bounces it between her hands. “You got it little man.”

_Hurry back, guys._


	65. That Smile - Delta/Maine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing Maine loves most about Delta.

It’s Delta’s smile that does it.

Really that doesn’t make a lot of sense to say, but Maine is adamant that it’s Delta’s smile that made him fall in love. Sure the other man is beautiful. Sure he’s nurturing. Sure he’s tender. And yeah in bed he’s…

Well, what matters really, was that it was his smile that first drew Maine to him. It’s the soft way his lips curve, a sad little smile as he looks at his younger siblings. It’s the smile of someone who has to watch their siblings grow up and doesn’t want them to lose the pure innocence and self-assurance of their youth. The smile of a guardian, who knows how truly cruel the world is. The smile of a gentle man who has been hurt so many times, so many ways, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore.

Theta rushes up to South and Maine looks up from his book and sees the most beautiful man in the world smiling softly, sadly, as his younger brother is swept into the arms of a paid killer who the child loves dearly.

It’s intriguing enough that Maine didn’t read any more pages of his book, just flipped them aimlessly as he peered over it every now and then to catch glimpses of the strange man.

He has more than a small smile, though.

Maine thinks the first time he realizes he’s starting to care for the man is the first time Delta rushes in with Theta, a small child on either hip, and a heavy bag hanging from his back. Theta does his normal rush toward South and North, and Delta just looks haggard as he looks back toward the door.

Maine pushes himself up fro his seat, crosses to Delta, and says the first thing he’s ever said to the other man.

“Need help?”

There’s a flash of fear, but when Maine takes one of the children into his arms and within seconds he has the girl—Eta he learns—giggling and squealing with delight.

The smile he earns is wider, warmer, filled with relief and joy and pleasure. Before Maine knows it he’s a jungle gym for the children and Delta is stretched out on the couch, taking what was no doubt a well deserved nap. And dear god, how that faint, pleased, relaxed smile as he settles into sleep is positively beatific.

Then there was the lazy smile. The one that he saw for the first time when Delta agreed to stay overnight with his younger siblings. He’d been up late with York in the kitchen, talking while the Twins watched over Theta, and Carolina and Connie cooed over the little twins. Maine had come in only for a cup of tea, hadn’t even realized Delta was there.

When he asks later he finds out they all had been there for almost ten hours at that point. That didn’t stick in his head nearly so much as the smile Delta gave York as the other mercenary made a stupid joke. It was wide but loose. Clearly not feigned. Genuine, amused, and yet somehow a touch patronizing, but maybe Maine just thought that because it was prompted by one of York’s jokes. Delta’s fingers had come up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear and his lips had parted in a light chuckle and Maine had felt his heart skip a beat.

More than anything he wanted that smile on him. He wanted to provoke it, he wanted to claim it, he wanted it to happen for him and only him.

His favorite smile, though, is the warm, sleepy one he gets from Delta in the morning’s. That perfect, unguarded moment when Delta wakes up just enough to realize where he is. Then his lips are soft, sweet, turned up at the corners even as his eyes have trouble staying open. It’s a smile only Maine has ever seen, only Maine will ever see, and only Maine knows exists. His fingers trace over that private smile first thing, and Delta presses feather light kisses against his skin.

Yes.

It’s the smile.

More than anything, it’s Delta’s smile that does it.


	66. Weapons; Eta/Miami

Sometimes a knife is all you need, but sometimes it’s not.

Sometmes what you need is an SRS99D-S2 sniper rifle complete with armor piercing rounds and a damn good vantage point. Sometimes what you need is two handfuls of flash-bangs and quick shots with small arms. Sometimes what you need is a quick crawl through air-vents and an aerosolized poison in the middle of a room full of men without helmets on. And sometimes what you need is another specialist who knows all those things and who will laugh with glee and pride as she sits on top of a high shelf and looks down on the carnage you’ve wrecked together.

Honestly, Eta thinks the last one is by far the most important, mostly because she loves the way Miami giggles as they stand victorious together.


	67. Hide and Seek - Theta, Florida

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hide and seek with the mercenaries is serious business. And it's also how Theta meets Florida.

Hide and seek is honestly one of Theta’s favorite games to play with the Twins. Not Eta and Iota. Those are lowercase twins. North and South are uppercase twins, and Theta makes that distinction in his mind whenever he visits them at their base. And he has so much fun when he’s there, because while he isn’t allowed in a lot of places, a simple game of hide and seek soon has a lot of the mercenaries playing too. Like they’re little kids or something. And they never give up his hiding places either.

So he doesn’t think twice when he sneaks into the kitchen and finds someone there. Not that he looks at the person as he squeezes himself into the narrow space between the fridges. He gets comfortable before…

“They’ll look there,” a voice tells him. Theta would have jumped had he really been able too. Instead he goes very still.

“They won’t, though, look in the cabinets if I’m in here,” the voice offers, and Theta hears one open and some metal clanks as things are moved out. Slowly he shimmies from between the fridges and looks up at the man clad in blue. He frowns.

“You’re serious?”

The man nods and Theta decides to trust him. A choice he cheers five minutes later when he hears South come and go and peeks out to look up at the blue man. And he grins when a cupcake gets passed down to him, frosted with chocolate.

“When they give up we’ll sneak you out of there so you can keep the hiding place.”

Theta nods and ducks back in. He’s totally going to win.


End file.
